Blame The Beauty
by bisou
Summary: It was 1933 and I was beautiful.
1. Part One: King

**BLAME THE BEAUTY**

"It took some time before I began to blame the beauty for what had happened to me—for me to see the curse of it. To wish that I had been… well, not ugly, but normal. Like Vera. So I could have been allowed to marry someone who loved _me_, and have pretty babies. That's what I'd really wanted, all along. It still doesn't seem like too much to have asked for."

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

Yesterday I dreamed I was getting married again. The dress was white and long, and part of it was touching the floor. And I was holding orchids, freshly picked from a garden. It wasn't cold out. It was warm, and the sunlight made my hair shinier, made my eyes sparkle, made the day brighter.

And he was with me. Except, I didn't know who _he_ was. I couldn't see his face—but I knew in my dream that he'd be the one, with a soft smile and strong arms. He'd call me ritzy and I'd laugh, blushing, and denying every sweet nothing he whispered into my ear. And he would shower me with flowers, but wouldn't throw me a line because he would mean every word he said.

He would be perfect. And I never liked it when boys called girls broads or dames or dolls, but with him I wouldn't mind because we'd be lovebirds and my heart would never stop beating because it would beat for him. I just knew it.

But now, there I was, sitting in a room with my long-time friend Vera and her baby boy, Henry, growing envious by the second of what they had, something I didn't have. She always told me there was someone out there for me—that there's someone out there for everyone—but I was seventeen, and in a couple of days I would be eighteen and still without my own one and only.

Was there something about how I looked? It couldn't have been the way I looked. I was a looker, that's what Vera always told me. My blond hair was the kind of hair girls dreamed about. I got stares, and I knew they were jealous. I was absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Maybe it was my height. I was tall—unnaturally tall, especially since I was a woman. I towered over every girl I met, and some boys as well. Was it because of that? Did boys not want to be seen with someone taller than them? If that was it I'd probably never get married. I frowned. Henry cooed.

My parents wanted me to get married too. It wasn't out of love though, I could tell, it was because of money. But I wasn't a gold-digger. I didn't want jack—I wanted love. I wanted my companion to be completely dizzy with me.

Though, with the situation now, there wasn't time to fall in love. It was 1933 and cash was tight. _Everything_ was tight. The stock market crashed _four_ years ago and everyone thought it would pass, but it hadn't. Who knew how much longer it would be? My family wasn't great off either. So it was natural that they wanted me to marry someone rich so I wouldn't suffer, so they wouldn't suffer. Maybe I'd marry him for his money and he'd end up being the bee's knees and I'd fall so deep in love with him.

That was my fairytale wedding.

"How much longer do you think it'll last?" Vera asked me, cradling Henry in her arms. I felt sorry for her. Henry was a one year old and suffering. He had the most adorable dimples.

I looked out the window. Rochester, New York used to be full of life, but now it was practically dead. I turned my eyes back to her. "Hopefully it'll end soon," I murmured.

Vera smoothed Henry's dark hair, and even through it was probably the hardest for them, she was still smiling. Her arms were around her son and I leaned back, staring at them. I couldn't look outside. It made me sick. And look at Vera, with her tousled hair, tired eyes, and almost broken smile… it was beautiful, tragically beautiful. And I wanted that. Even through all the suffering she was smiling.

She had married when she was seventeen to a carpenter—the kind of man my parents would never approved of. But she was happy, and I think that was all she ever needed.

My parents were the kind that expected so much out of life. And ever since my father lost his job, he's been expecting so much more than before. We were barely making it, and soon, we'd have nothing left.

Vera lifted her eyes to mine. "You can stay for as long as you want, Rosalie. I'm not going to let you die out there alone."

"But—"

"No," she interrupted, "we're friends, okay?"

And that was it. I wondered why we were still friends. We've known each other for years and she was still around. Everyone else was gone from my life now. I've known Vera the longest, she had been my friend for a long time, or, the only one I bothered to keep.

"My parents still expect a ring on the finger though, you can't give me that, can you?"

Vera sighed. "Rosalie, listen, it's the Depression right now, and I'm sure boys are looking for jobs more than girlfriends right now. And the rich boys… they're probably just using women, letting them believe he's going to marry them when really he just wants to… wants to make whoopee! We're all in the same boat, and when it's all over, I'm sure there will be someone for you. You wouldn't want a guy who just pitches woo without any kind of love in it, would you?"

There she was, always reasonable, always right.

"And since money is tight, there's probably a lot of trouble boys around too. Someone will come Rosalie, trust me. You're a looker. _Everyone_ stops and stares at you at least once."

I couldn't help but laugh at her remark. First time today. "I know that Vera, it's just—"

She shook her head. "No, you have to get it through your head, Rose. You're beautiful and someone will come around. He'll have a lot of money and shower you with gifts while everyone else is barely scarping by."

"But I don't want to just be in for the money!" I leaned forward, looking straight at her. Henry stared with curious eyes. My heart ached.

"That will just be a benefit, Rose. He won't believe what he sees and he'll talk to you and get to know you and marry you and you'll be so well off. His money will just be something more."

I breathed out and leaned back, tilting my head to the ceiling. "If only," I told Vera, closing my eyes and imagining it. Though honestly, I could do without the 'something more'. If I had to give up the money I would, just to find someone Vera was describing to me—someone who I dreamed about every time I fell asleep.

And these thoughts, they were something the old Rosalie never gave much thought about. Not since 1929, since the Depression started. I was Rosalie Hale and I was beautiful. I never cared about marriage much, even if my parent's wanted more from me. But ever since the stock market crash I've been pushed harder and was reaching my breaking point. Now thoughts of marriage plagued me, and it was all I ever thought about.

The amount of people dieing because of this made me scared too. My father didn't work and my two brothers were doing all they could to make money, but it wasn't enough. I didn't want to die alone. I think that's why the thought of marriage was my newest—and probably last—obsession. I wanted to get married, be Mrs. Someone before I died, just to make my parents happy.

I closed my eyes for a while before turning to look outside. And that was when I first noticed him.

I never gave him much thought before—to me, he was just the son of the owner of the bank my father worked for. But now, it was like I was seeing him for the first time.

Even after the bank became bankrupt, he still had money on him—I could tell just by his suit. He had a jacket and trousers and I couldn't see it, but I was sure he had a matching waistcoat. His jacket slightly fluttered against the wind. He's walking slowly as his mouth stayed slightly parted, his eyes glancing around him. I straightened. He stopped walking. He's looking around and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. I could tell that his hair was light—lighter than my blond hair—from the pieces that weren't covered by his fedora hat and I could tell it was soft. I couldn't see his eyes. I wished I could. Then he turned and looked straight at me and he was the most handsome person I'd ever seen in my entire lifetime.

"What are you looking at—oh," Vera said to me. I couldn't turn to her. She noticed. I could see her from the corner of my eyes. "Be careful, Rose."


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

I never saw nor thought about Royce King II after that. I never expected too either. He was just passing by, probably collecting whatever money he had left and leaving Rochester. And when I woke up today, my crush for him had practically vanished. I think it was because my father had been talking about him visiting soon to try and help us when my mother decided that I should marry him so we could be lovebirds. I couldn't handle that—not until the Depression was over.

And there was something about him—especially with the way my father would talk about him. My father said that Royce King II would help us, but it wouldn't be enough. He said he had enough money, but would still keep it to himself. He was the kind of person, I decided, that only showed off his wealth. He wasn't more than the rich businessman, he was just an arrogant, self-absorbed businessman, no matter how attractive he may be.

Yet both my mother and father believed he would be perfect for me.

"I don't want to marry_anyone_ right now," I argued with my mother. My father was sitting in the corner, reading. I knew he was listening though, he was just waiting for the right time to say whatever he wanted to say.

My mother was staring at me, her gaze hard.

"And why would I marry when our family needs help?" I continued. Both my parents stayed silent and I wanted to scream.

My mother shook her head, her blond hair moving with it. "If you marry someone rich, say, _Royce King_, you'll be able to live without any of _this_." I knew what she was referring to.

"Father _hates_ Royce!" I exclaimed to her, turning my head towards my father.

He glanced up from his book and said, "I don't hate him, I just… don't like him. And your mother's right Rosalie, he's a suitable husband for you. He's the big butter-and-egg-man, and everyone knows him as that. Marrying him would make you rich your entire life."

I continued to stare at him, completely appalled. "I don't even know him! And he seems so smug anyways." I pouted, crossing my arms.

"It's not all about love, my dear," my mother said from beside me.

I shook my head. "I'm _not_ going to marry, especially not _Royce King_!" I turned and went to my room, my fingers tangled in my hair. I went to my bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to think things through. I didn't need to marry right now, even though my parents persisted. I would like to marry though, and be like Vera. But not out of money, because they were just rich snobs who only cared about themselves.

I stayed in my room for hours—or, what felt like hours. I couldn't sleep. I tried to get to bed and shut my eyes and sleep but couldn't. Sleep wouldn't come. It wasn't even that late out yet I still wanted to sleep. I was tired and not that I was lying in bed with my eyes shut, nothing was happening.

It'd be dark soon, but I didn't want to stay here. Both of my brothers were looking for jobs though, just milling around town, taking every opportunity they could get. They were younger than me too, Nathaniel was fifteen and Tommy was seventeen.

Suddenly I heard murmuring and movement coming from outside my bedroom. I couldn't go to sleep and the noise wasn't helping me any more than it was bothering me. I slide out of bed and into the halls. The door's closed and I heard more murmuring.

Stepping into the living room I saw a figure walking towards the kitchen. I followed it, my parents no where in sight. It better not be a hood. I didn't want to call the copper and didn't want to deal with anyone right now. Wait, it couldn't be a hood because I was sure I had locked the door. Maybe I didn't. maybe I should have checked twice.

And I should have turned and called for help or dropped a dime, but I was too curious. I picked up one of my father's books and peered through the edge of the wall to look in the kitchen. I was ready to strike when a heard a voice behind me, "What are you doing Rose?"

I jumped up and turned and saw Nathaniel standing there. By the time I turned around, I saw Tommy behind me, drinking water. I sighed, relived, and put the book back on the table. After my relief, I wondered why they were already home.

Nathaniel started to laugh. "You thought Tom was a hood?" He then clutched onto his sides, unable to say anything else as laughter consumed him.

"Well, I wouldn't have if you didn't make so much noise! I was trying to sleep. You didn't tell me you were coming home this early."

"We're leaving again soon, we just wanted to see mother and father before they left."

"Left? Where did they go?"

"Meet that Royce guy. The one with all the jack. They're trying to get some money off of him. I hear the guy's rich." Tommy told me.

"I hear he has twenty large," Nate remarked.

"Nah, probably a grand, no one makes that much."

They continued talking about Royce before I told them to stop. "Mother and father thinks I should marry him."

Tom whistled. "Well, you'd be rich then. You should letting him pitch woo and take all the sucker's money."

I gaped at him. "Close your head, Tom."

Tom shook his head and turned towards Nate. "Okay, time to hit the road again, find a job."

I watched them head towards the door. They were heading towards the door and didn't want them to leave just yet. I couldn't stand being alone. I loved being around them. And they were leaving to find a job they probably wouldn't get. Everyone's been looking for jobs.

"Wait!" I called after them. Both stop and turn. I breathed in deeply and there was something inside of me that I feared, something that was about to come. I tried to push it back. My brothers were so young. "May I come with you?"

"Why?" Tom asked.

"I can't stay here much longer." It's almost late out and I couldn't let them be alone. They both paused, looked at each other, then nodded. Working my way towards them, I follow behind them outside. I shut the door and made sure to lock it—double checking it. Twice.

The air was cool against my skin. I didn't mind it because I liked the feeling of it. The air felt dry and my breath felt warm as I breathed. The road I was walking on was hard and flat and crunchy underneath my shoes. And everywhere we passed, every sign we saw, either read that they were closed or not hiring. It was one disappointment after another and I'd never had walked such a tragic mile before.

"Rochester's done for," Nate remarked, his fingers curled around his suspenders. Tom's head get whipping around though, searching for an open door to welcome them. There were none. He knew that too. I wasn't sure he wanted to believe it though.

Most of the walk was silent, and when it wasn't silent Nate was the one bumping gums. Tom was always more the quiet one, just swinging his head back and forth. Hope was long gone from his eyes.

When we reached the ends of Rochester, I heard them both sigh.

"Hey, we'll try again tomorrow." I said, sounding all too optimistic. Except, I wasn't even sure if I believed myself.

"Yeah, of course." Tom scoffed, turning and heading back home.

"Tom," I chided and turned around too, my head moving lethargically and my hair cutting through the air. I sighed as I chased after him, Nate following behind.

"Tom," I repeated, "where are you going?"

He didn't answer and I just watched him head off into a different direction. He was upset. His arms were crossed. Crossed arms were never good. Especially with Tommy.

"Tommy!" I yelled after him and he just kept walking. He was nothing like Nate—he was quiet and sensitive and worked hard in whatever he did. He was frustrated, but that didn't mean he should just turn around and walk away from the people who needed him, the people he needed. He was too proud.

And Nate was the gentleman at fifteen.

"Well, why aren't you chasing after him?" I asked him.

"Someone has to take you home."

"I'm not going until we get him." I turned to him—the normally joking, uplifting Nathaniel.

We followed Tom's direction. It was dark out now. Completely dark, covered in black. Rochester was nearly empty ever since the stock market crashed. It was darker, lonelier. And now the wind blew more violently, whipping thin strands of my hair around her face. My tender, rosy lips parted at seeing Nathaniel follow Tommy—myself following close behind. No words escaped my mouth, but my feet were propelling me forward to follow.

The smell of the town was musty and very unpleasant. My shoes made crunching noises with the earth as her and Nate silently chased Tom, his figure faint, especially in the dark.

It was cold and dark now and I shivered slowly. My hair was strewn in different directions and I sighed tremulously before proceeding on walking further.

When we caught up with Tom, he was sitting on a rock, still at the very ends of Rochester. An eerie silence hung over us and my nerves were on edge. I had no idea where we were, but Tom or Nate should.

"Why'd you follow me?" Tom remarked.

I countered it. "Why'd you run off?"

"I need to think Rose. This was just a trip for biscuits, and it'll be like this until this all ends."

"That's not true."

"How do you know?"

I didn't.

Tom was sitting, Nate and I standing, when we heard it.

Silence.

_Crash._

_Rgghhhh!_

_Crash._

Silence.

The sound echoed and the resonance feeling so close to me. I whirled around, looking for the source of noise, but the dark was stopping me from succeeding.

"We have to drift," I said, looking around nervously. I wasn't like this. I was confident—never scared. I looked at my brothers. They had heard it to. Tom stood up.

"Tom, do you know how to get back?" Nate asked.

Tom nodded. I didn't know if I believed him.

We left our resting place, Tom and Nate not once turning back. My eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness and almost missed it at first, but then went back to something out of the ordinary. A red hue decorated the ground not too far away. I slowly began to understand what I was looking at.

"Blood?" I stuttered, stopping dead on my tracks. My eye's narrowed and I turned back at Nate and Tom, who were still walking forward. It felt like something was watching me. I ran to them, but I couldn't shake off the feeling. The hair at the back of my neck stood on its edge, pulling my heart rate up with it.

The images of trailing scarlet in mangled patterns were etched in my mind. And I couldn't help it, I turned to the scene behind her again, and that was when I saw it.

My eyes lined with _it_—the darkness didn't help. There was blood, blood was lined all around… _it's_ face. And there was a dead animal. They were far away, but I could make out what I was seeing. And I could suddenly see blood _everywhere._ I couldn't stop staring when I met it's eyes. It's eyes were so dark and it's skin was so pale. We were both looking directly at each other, but with different expressions, I would guess. It's was apathetic and mine… I didn't even know what I looked like. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

My mind was blank and the silence only helped to aid the uncomfortable feeling lingering back and forth in my head.

_It_ continued to stare, transfixed like stone.

I knew I should have move—no, ran away. Ran to Tom and Nate, but my muscles wouldn't cooperate.

"Rosalie! What are you waiting for? Let's dust or we'll leave you behind!" It was Nate.

I turned and saw they were far away. I didn't turn back this time as I ran to Nate and held onto his arm. He looked confused for a second, but let it pass. He probably thought I was just afraid of the dark. I wish I just was.

I could see my breath as I breathed, and it was then that I realized that I was breathing. I was breathing heavily, but I was still breathing. But I felt as if I were on fire.

And as we walked back home I slowly turned my head, very curious, but _it_ was gone.


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

I couldn't shake the feeling of that… thing, until we came back home. It was when I saw candles lit and chatter coming through the thin walls that I was able to focus on something else. I just didn't know if it was a good thing.

I could hear them from outside. My mother, as usual, was talking very loudly. I didn't think she ever noticed. My father didn't say anything about it, or did and she ignored his request. Accompanying them, I could see through the window, was a man barely reaching thirty. I knew at that moment who he was, and suddenly I felt sick.

"Who'd you think that is?" Nate exclaimed as we came closer to our deteriorating home.

"Beats me," Tom replied.

Tom was the one who opened the door, and the moment he opened it was the moment my mother was in front of us.

"Dear Heavens, where were you Rosalie? You know the dark all alone is no place for a lady!"

"Mother, I was with Tom and Nate."

"Of course you were. Boys, I want you to run out. Rosalie, you'll never guess who's here!"

Without even giving me a chance to respond, she answered her own question. "Why, Royce King's son! The second one, you know, and he's not married! I think with his age he'll take anything he can get and with a pretty thing like you he'll want to marry you! You're a looker, now you boys skip out right now!"

"Looks like Ma is tightening the screws on you," Nate laughed as him and Tom went to their rooms.

I stared after them as my Mother brought me to the kitchen, my father and Royce's voice drifting in and out of the room.

"Pipe that? He hasn't found the right skirt just yet! Oh, I'm so excited!" My mother was giggling and hugging me and jumping in anticipation.

"But Mother, what if I don't want to marry—"

"Break it up! You will marry him, just think of how much you'll help the family! Tommy and Nathaniel won't be finding jobs pretty soon. Do you want our family to suffer? After how much your father and I worked just to let you have a home to live in and a place to eat?"

There she went again, trying to make me feel guilty. I wanted to help them, I wanted this Depression to be over. But no one knew when it would be and I was probably the only one who could save my family Tom and Nate were practically lost causes, they looked for jobs even when they knew there wouldn't be anything. Marrying someone with lots of money was the only thing left. I'd be a worker; a gold-digger. I was such a weak sister.

And sure, I'd marry, but not someone like Royce King II. I could hear him from the kitchen, completely proud and full of haughty air. He was the type of man that only got with roundheels and pro skirts. He probably looked down on everyone without his status and I was disgusted.

My mother turned to me holding a dress—the prettiest dress I owned.

"It'll have to do for now. Just think of all the lovely dresses you'll get to wear when you marry him! Now get dressed and I'll give you some food to give them!"

Even though she told me to dress, she was the one dressing me—fixing the sleeves and the hem and making sure my blond hair was perfect.

"I wish your hair wasn't so flat, but that'll have to do for now!"

She turned to the table and gave me two plates filled with food. It was too much food for one person and what was left of our food supply. She was giving it away, really thinking that that bird was going to marry me!

Before I could protest she was already pushing me out of the kitchen and into the room where my father and Royce was. Already, I wanted to bump off someone and tried to hide it with a smile on my face. I knew there was weariness in my eyes.

"Ah, Rosalie!" My father exclaimed. Everyone seemed to be doing a lot of exclaiming lately. "I want you to meet Royce King II. Royce King, this is my daughter, Rosalie."

And I didn't want him to notice me. But he did.

He was staring at me, his eyes traveling, and I wanted to dust off. He came close and took both plates and put them on the table. He reached over and held my hand and kissed it, then his eyes met mine and he said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hale."

I stared at him, dumbfounded, before my father cleared his throat. I tore myself from Royce's eyes and cleared my throat as well, facing no one, and said, "I brought you supper… from Mother." My voice didn't sound like my own, like something was in my throat. I cleared it again and I heard chuckling from Royce. I glared at him and it seemed to only make him laugh further.

"It's alright, I ate before I had come here—"

"Nonsense!" A voice from the kitchen nearly yelled. My mother came rushing it, practically pushing Royce onto a chair and forcing the plate in front of him. My father had already retrieved his plate and took small bites out of it. I could tell neither of them were hungry, and my mother didn't seem to notice or didn't seem to care.

When my mother was satisfied that Royce was eating, he looked up from his plate to me, just awkwardly standing there in a dress I shouldn't be wearing.

"Rosalie, why don't you join me?"

Before I could respond, and politely decline, my mother was already pushing me to him. It was like she was the one that was going to answer for me. I bet she liked Royce more than I did—or just his money.

He offered me some of his food but I shook my head. But then he kept pestering me and his eyes glanced to my left and I could see my mother watching us. I laughed under my breath and took a bite. I could see that she was happy and went back to the kitchen, and I sighed in relief.

When my mother was finally gone Royce started to talk again, facing me. "Your father and I were talking about your situation. With the bank a complete dust I can tell it's going to be hard for you and your family, especially with two brothers as well. I got no kick however, because I'm living moderately well. But I know your family and would be willing to spare some cash. I wouldn't want a pretty thing like you to do the wrong thing to try and get some cash too."

Royce was completely facing me now, as if my father wasn't there with us. His hand had come out and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. His hand felt warm and tender, and when he was pulling back it brushed my cheek. I could feel the heat of him against my cold cheek. I looked down at his hand, my breath hitching, before bringing my eyes back to his. He was staring right through me.

We were somewhere else, and I opened my mouth to say something, but something else came out. Except, I didn't even think it came from me. I could hear my mother giggling in the kitchen. My skin felt hot and I put my head down and shut my eyes.

Royce laughed. Except I didn't hate him for it.

"I can see that your mother is suddenly interested in our conversations. How about somewhere more… private? But not today, maybe tomorrow morning?"

I could hear my mother and practically see her jumping, holding onto the doorframe in anticipation.

He could see my hesitation and looked over my head, at my father. "Unless you father has something against it?"

"No!" My mother answered for him. He laughed again. It was a deep laugh, coming from his throat and causing his chest to shake.

I wanted to say no. Sure, he was something to look at, with who he was and how much money he made, but he wasn't meat, nor was he my subject of interest. I wanted what Vera had, a husband and family. Maybe it could be with Royce, but did I want it now? No.

I couldn't think of anything to say, I was opening and closing my mouth and not looking at him.

His hand brushed mine.

"I'll come back tomorrow, just in case you change your mind. I still have things to discuss with your father, about the cash. It's getting late too. This was a lovely dinner."

He stood up and I took his plate. He gave a wave and walked away, and when he was almost out of sight he turned to me and bowed. "Miss."

I heard the door open and close and the room was silent.

Then my mother came rushing it. I expected her to yell at me, saying why I hadn't accepted his accompaniment, but instead she seemed to flourish with more excitement than I had ever seen her in.

"Oh Rosalie!" She started, clapping her hands together, "leaving that man hanging was brilliant! Now I can tell he wants you even more! Wouldn't you agree?" she asked, turning to my father.

"If you say so my dear."

"Oh! It doesn't even matter that he hadn't finished his food. Rosalie, I need you to pick another dress to wear when he stops by tomorrow!"

I stood up, still holding the plate. "Who says I am going out with him tomorrow?" My brows were furrowed as I stared at my mother. "What if I didn't like him and don't want to spend time with him?"

"It's not about whether or not you like the man or not, it's the amount of money he has!"

I sighed and stared at the ceiling before handing the plate to my mother.

"Maybe I don't care about the money and just never want to see him again!"

My mother looked completely stunned, as if she couldn't believe I didn't care about a man's wealth. "My dear lord! Do you hear what your daughter is saying?" She turned to my father.

My father, who had been silent for the most part, turned from his paper and stared at me.

"Now Rose… the situation we're in is a hard one. Royce King has offered us money, and I think he expects you to accompany him tomorrow. If you don't, he might just decide not to give us any out of spite. Now, you don't have to like him at all, but for now, until this Depression is over, we'll need everyone in the family to try and help. Your brothers are looking for jobs, and you haven't been doing anything as of yet."

"Do you hear that Rosalie? You can't just become selfish! He is a high pillow, with lots of scratch which will help this family!"

I stared at the ground, suddenly lost. Royce was a nice guy, but that could've been just an act. His kind didn't help anyone below them, and I certainly didn't believe he actually wanted to help us. He was kind, but everyone was kind. There was nothing special about him, just that he had a lot of dough. Both Nate and Tom knew of his investments as much as my parents did.

I sighed and looked up at both my parents again. Taking a breath, I told them both, "Fine."

My mother's countenance changed suddenly, the excitement once again evident on her face. "Oh, I knew you'd say yes! Now, you have to wear a pretty dress. Oh, but what if he takes you to eat—it might get ruined! Oh well, I'm sure he'll buy you another. Oh in that case, I want you to get your dress ruined so he'll buy you another and maybe ask for you again, and that time tell him yes right away!"

"Mother…"

"Heaven dear, we have to do something with your hair. Maybe we can put it up… no, that's too proper. Just wait until everyone hears about this, they will be jealous my daughter has found a hombre like Royce King. Just think, Rosalie King. It fits perfectly, wouldn't you agree? Oh, we have to get ready!"

It was late but I didn't go to sleep a lot that night. Most of it was my mother telling me how I should act and what to wear and what to say and answering her own questions. My father was there, reading the paper, and both my brother's were in their rooms.

I smiled and pretended to listen, nodding every once in a while. I thought about Tom and Nate. I thought about how we would survive if I said I didn't want to see Royce ever again. I would be selfish if I refused to meet with him. It wasn't about me, it was my family. I needed to help them.

I thought about Vera and her son and her husband. Could that exist between me and Royce? I just met him, so I didn't know. But I'd like to think so.

I thought about what I would do tomorrow. I wouldn't stay at home and wait for Royce to come. I would go out with Tom and Nate. Then I'd come back. If Royce wasn't there than tough. I wouldn't wait around for him.

My mother might get angry and my father would probably be passive as always, but I didn't care. I'd help them, but I would think about myself too. I wouldn't lose myself to anyone.

Not even Royce King II.


	4. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Nate! Nate, wake up!" I half whispered half yelled to my brother as I shook him awake. It was early out and I wanted to get out before my parents woke up and trapped me in the house, waiting for Royce. I wanted to see the sunrise. I still didn't want to go out alone.

"Rose, it's too early to be awake!" Nate said all too loudly, trying to cover himself with his blanket.

"Quit being a daisy and come with!" I replied, breaking from my whisper.

I heard movement from the bed near us. I turned my head and Tom was looking straight at us, bleary eyed, and whispered, "Would you two close your head _please_?"

I looked back at Nate and put my hands on my hips. "Look Nate, you woke up Tom!"

"I did not, I—"

"Just get up!"

"Why?" Tom asked.

"I want to see the sunrise!"

I could hear laughter in Nate's voice. "You mean want to take the run-out so you won't have to see Royce King!" Nate exclaimed, his voice going an octave higher when he said his name.

I nodded, not bothering to try and hide it. "That too."

I waited for an answer from both of them. It was silent for a long time. I mostly looked down at Nate since he was the most carefree one of my brothers. His hair was tousled and his clothes were rumpled and his eyes half open; half awake.

And as if they both planned it all along they said, in unison, "No."

I let them both fall back asleep, heads turned away from me. But just for a while. Then, without warning, I grabbed Nate's blanket and pulled it away from him.

"Nate!"

"No! And why do you want to go anyways? There hasn't been a proper sunrise in weeks!"

He had me there. I just didn't tell him. "I'm not going to stop until you come with me," I told him, and began to shake him in his sleep.

It didn't take long—only a couple of seconds before he burst. "Fine!" he grumbled and stood up and stretched, his shirt riding up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. With his eyes closed he reached around for anything he could wear, not even caring. He put on a simple plaid shirt and wide leg pleated slacks. There was no light and his eyes were still closed.

"Tom, are you coming?" Nate asked when he was done. He grabbed his fedora hanging by the door and waited for a response.

"Breeze off," he replied, and turned away. I rolled my eyes and dragged Nate to the front door, looking around in case I heard my parents.

Nate laughed and I hit his arm, a sign to be quiet. Nate's trying hard not to laugh again and I could see him struggling. I almost hated him for it but couldn't. I wanted the Depression to be over. I didn't want to worry for him or Tom. I didn't want them to leave Rochester to try and find a job. But I know he would need too. There was probably one solution to my family's situation and it was staring at me straight in the face no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

"It's just, you look like you're going to be copped out." Nate started to laugh again and I took in his attire, the one that showed he didn't care. And I looked at myself, presentable and proper despite only going out to see the sunrise.

I shook my head and headed out the door, running my hand through my still tangled hair. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. My mother told me I should cut my hair, that Royce probably liked girls with short hair like many of the film actresses, but I always refused. Besides, I loved my hair long. I loved the length. My hair had small waves and not the soft curls, and I liked the way it blew against the wind, so beautiful and so soft.

No one would admit it but I knew they were jealous and angry. Angry that they cut their hair to be like everyone else's and that it wouldn't be years until it was as long as mine.

As Nate and I headed out the door I stared out to the horizon, happy that the sun still hadn't come out yet. I wondered how many people were like this at night. How many people lost almost everything and decided to just look at the sunrise. It's beautiful. My eyes were opened wide in every sense as I breathed in the night.

Nate leads the way out of town and to the flat open field. A part of me wondered if he'd ever done this before. I wanted to ask but didn't. I had to pull my ankle length dress up so it wouldn't get caught with the high grass. I neglected a beret because it made my hair flat.

When Nate stopped walking I did too. He stayed facing away from me for a long time before turning his head and smiling. I gave him a look. Then, I gave him a stare.

"Well, I'll be leaving you to this sunrise you want to see." His voice was serious and I wondered if he actually meant it. I saw him face me before walking past me and all I could do was stare at him.

Then, he began to laugh. He turned to me and I was still giving him an appalled look that it made him laugh even further.

"Lord, Rose! You should see the look on your face! Of course I'd never leave you alone, or else Mother and Father would have my keister for letting Royce King's bride get away!" Nate started to laugh and I figured that was all my little brother could do. If he wasn't eating, breathing or sleeping, he was laughing.

"Close your head Nate! And I'm not going to marry Royce, he's a rich snob who's going to give our family money if I accompany him and I will not become... become a hustler!"

"You think you're going to hustle one's bustle by _accompanying_ the cat?"

"I am aren't I?"

"You're not even going to be pitching woo, so I don't know what you're even worried about! Lord, Rose, think of the family. He's going to give us probably a grand of money—the bird's the biggest butter and egg man around—if you just take a walk with him! By God I'd kiss the man myself if he gave me a sawbuck!"

I rolled my eyes, pushing my hair behind me.

"I'm saying just talk with him until he gives you some scratch or until this Depression is over. I'm sure when it's done with he'll be back on his way and you'll be back on yours. You savvy?"

I stared at him. "Since when did you get so reasonable?"

He shrugged his shoulders. This time, he didn't laugh.

And as we waited for the sun we continued to bump gums. I didn't know how long we were out there and a part of me wondered if the sun would ever come up. We had been sitting on the grass for a while and I didn't know how much longer I could take it. There were clouds out. It was dark but at the same time wasn't.

"I don't think the sun's going to come out today, Rose."

"Oh, how wonderful!" I exclaimed, talking to the sky like I was insane.

And Nate began to laugh like I knew he would.

"You know, I think Tom knew this all along…"

"Well, at least I didn't have Mother waking me early to dress up."

Nate laughed again.

When we both got back into the streets my legs felt stiff and sore, We probably sat there for hours as we dragged ourselves back. The sun didn't even rise so it was almost a waste of time. The sky was dark and the buildings around us were almost completely empty. Some people were outside wandering, doing nothing.

"Wait, I don't want to go back yet," I told Nate, his back to me. Where Tom would probably ignore my request and keep walking Nate stopped. I was almost stunned and couldn't think of anything to say. He just looked at me and waited and when I didn't answer turned back around and continued to walk. I thought he was ignoring my request too but he went to a rock and sat on it. The grass was better but I wasn't complaining.

Then I started to ask him what he though of Royce. He said he didn't know the guy but he was rich. I asked him if he thought he was a snob. He said yes, but he was the only thing that could help us. I figured he wasn't going to tell me not to acknowledge Royce so I soon gave up on trying.

I told him to talk about something else. He started to talk about what him and Tom were up to, which dame he thought was ritzy but knew he wouldn't ask to marry her or anything because of the Depression. I listened on but my eyes wandered.

At one point we both got up and were heading back home. I couldn't avoid it. Whenever we passed by people they always turned to look at us. My hair blew against the soft wind, away from me, waves of gold sent tumbling behind me. There were always eyes on us—on me. I looked away and smiled. I liked the attention. If only Royce was like them, looking but not touching, observing but not speaking. Except he wasn't like that and now I had to endure.

I recognized most of the faces. My father or brothers knew them and sometimes I saw them around too. Whenever I saw someone I didn't remember seeing they still turned my way.

Eventually I stopped glancing at people who stared at me and just looked straight ahead, Nate still sometimes talking to me. I answered without much thought, my head empty.

Nate was staring at me and I was staring at him that we didn't exactly watch where we were going as we talked. And as he doubled over with laughter he ran into someone and almost fell over.

"Nate, watch it!" I exclaimed.

Nate picked himself back up and before he could apologize the man was already walking away. I stared after him. He hadn't turned.

"Sorry!" Nate yelled after him and the man raised a hand.

Normally I didn't care—and wouldn't have cared—except he didn't even look at me. His eyes had been on the ground and glanced briefly at Nate. Not even a peek at the girl with blond hair. I saw the top of his head and the side of his jaw and part of his face but his eyes never roamed. I frowned.

"It's all right Rose, he didn't hurt me."

I looked down at him and realized what he thought what I was thinking. I took the frown off my face and stared after the man. He stopped just ahead of us and was talking to someone. It was an older man with blond hair. He turned to me. I looked at Nate. The other one still hadn't.

Nate soon figured out what I was really thinking.

"Oh I get it… he didn't look at you!"

"It's not that!"

"Sure it isn't. Come on, we have to get back or else Mother will have my keister, whether you're dead or alive. I still can't believe you convinced me to come out here."

Nate continued to talk, and I continued to stare at that boy. Soon we began to walk, getting closer to them. I didn't stop staring. I could see both their profiles and every so often the blond one would look up and I'd glare at him and he'd quickly look away. The other never once moved. It was like he was a statue.

I didn't stop staring as we got closer and wondered why he wasn't looking at me. Everyone would turn their head towards me, but he didn't move an inch. I felt a certain kind of fear in me. There was something about him—in how quiet he was, how he wouldn't turn my way, Not even a glance. Not even an eye shift. He was just staring right ahead of him, and I could see his eyes trained on the man in front of him, his mouth moving quickly that it looked like it wasn't moving at all.

He looked angry. I didn't know at what and I didn't think I wanted to know. It couldn't be because of Nate. I turned to check on Nate and when I looked back it looked like both of them were further away. Or I was crazy. I almost felt like taking a few steps back to distance myself from them. I didn't know why.

It wasn't because of how he looked. He was handsome—better than that blond man that accompanied him. Better than all the boys that even turned their head at my way. Better than Royce's money. Better than Royce King_ himself_. He was still not looking at me.

From where I was standing I could tell he was tall. Taller than me, the girl who's usually taller than everyone around her. His hair was bronze and I wanted to touch it. I waited for him to speak, to look at me, to_ move_, but he didn't.

He was wearing suspenders and he had a rough appearance. He looked like a carpenter. He didn't look like he made a lot of money but somehow still managed. He was wearing boots and his pants were dusty and torn.

My train of thought was cut off when I heard Nate calling me. "Hey! Rosalie!"

He was already heading in a different direction, the way to get home. He had turned when I hadn't noticed and had just checked to see if I was behind him. I wasn't.

I turned and walked towards him, trying to reach him. When I got close enough I turned one last time behind me and both of the men were gone.

"Rosalie!" Nate was snapping his finger in front of my face. I turned.

"What?"

"By God, if only you could stare at that like Royce, maybe he'd give you ten grand!"

I gave him a look. "Close your head."

"You've been saying that all day."

"And I mean it."


	5. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

When Nate and I got back home he immediately went to his room—probably wanting to avoid the wrath of our mother. I figured it'd be better late than never too.

And just as I predicted, she came at me like an earthquake.

"Rose, my dear! Where have you been? Did you see Royce? He came by and I wanted to get you, but you weren't here! Thomas told me what you did! How could you? Now you didn't get to see Royce! Oh, but he did give you some flowers. Roses! How could he have afforded roses? Where could he have even got them from? No matter, he also left you a note that asked you to take a romantic walk and I know just what you're going to wear!" She spoke without taking a breath, making it impossible for me to answer any of her questions. But when she was done she stared at me expectantly. I frowned. She pretended not to notice.

"Well, what do you have to say?"

I mustered a small smile and let out an airy laugh. "Great," I replied unenthusiastically. I knew my mother heard it, but she ignored it. She grabbed my hand and led me to the living room where my father was and on the table was a bouquet of roses.

When my mother let go of my hand I went towards the flowers. Along with the note asking me to take a walk together, there was a second note that said 'Roses for a Rose'. I scoffed.

"Now listen to me girlie, you _will_ take a liking to Mr. King. He's been nothing but nice and he could help our family in our time of need. Don't be selfish and ignore him. You may not love him now, but you will sooner or later. Why, he has all the qualities of a fine gentlemen! Don't tell me you want to marry some… some _carpenter_!" My mother's entire demeanour changed suddenly, turning to absolute disgust. Normally I would've thought about Vera's husband, but instead, I thought about _him_—the bronze-haired man on the street when I was walking home. He looked like a carpenter, and to me, it wouldn't have mattered. And suddenly I got defensive.

"So what if I like a carpenter? They could be a perfectly fine gentleman too. Just because… just because they aren't as wealthy as Royce doesn't make them horrible people. You sound as if they're _monsters._"

My mother gave me a shifted look. "Someone with your beauty deserves someone of quality. Someone to live up to our name. You're our family's last hope. If you want to marry some carpenter off the street who will only be one more mouth to feed compared to a wealthy man who will make the rest of your life easy, then go ahead! Leave you're family behind and only care about yourself if that's what you want!" My mother started to yell. I looked at my father. He hadn't once lifted his head from his book. But I knew he was listening. He always listened.

"I _hate_ Royce King, and I will _not_ marry him because you want me to," I seethed and left the room.

I stayed in my room for most of the day after that, staring at the ceiling and wistfully thinking. Every hour or so I'd hear a knock on the door. The first time there was a knock my mother had answered it and exclaimed that Royce was here—loud enough for me to hear. I still didn't come down. He had dropped off more roses. I wanted to throw them at him.

He'd come back every hour after that and my mother assured I'd be going on that walk with him. I didn't protest. I didn't care.

At about his sixth trip that evening I heard low murmurs before my mother's feet coming closer. She came into my room without warning, telling—no demanding, me to get into a nice dress.

"Oh, it's going to be absolutely perfect! He is quite the romantic. He wants to take you on a nice walk, and he even brought you more flowers! I told him we didn't have a lot of dresses for you and he offered to get you some! Not one, but some!"

"Sounds like a nance," I mumbled. I hoped my mother heard me. I gave her a quick look and knew she did.

"Close your head on such thoughts, Rosalie. I will not have you be disrespectable to Mr. King. If he asks you to marry you today or tomorrow, you _will _say yes," she whispered harshly to me as to make sure no one could hear of her plan.

I gave her a small sardonic smile. "Because he's rich, right?"

"Oh, my dear, at first his wealth impressed me but he also seems to be the perfect gentlemen, do you not agree?" I opened my mouth to answer and she interrupted me, knowing of what I was going to say. "Now, what is it you're wearing?"

"Why do you want me to change? It's just a walk!"

My mother looked absolutely appalled. "Who's been feeding you such thoughts Rose? A woman must always look her best—Lord, he could waltz in any moment so you must always look ready! You're a fine looker Rosalie, and you must show it off." She went into my closet and pulled out a dress for me to wear. "Now hurry, a woman must never keep a man waiting!"

She left the room and I stared down at the dress. I sat on my bed and took deep breaths. My fingers curled against the fabric of the dress and my hands felt cold. My eyes were tired. My head hurt. I wanted to sleep.

I stayed sitting there before I heard my mother again, and quickly slipped into the dress. I stood behind the door, as if waiting for someone to come in harshly and knock me over so I didn't have to go. No one came. I didn't think they would.

Taking a deep breath I went into the living room and was greeted with the sight of my mother and Royce. If my mother wasn't married I bet she would have been trying to catch Royce, and knowing her, I bet she could.

Upon seeing me, Royce's eyes lit up and I stopped myself from rolling mine. He walked over to me and from over his should I could see my mother practically glaring at me, so I gave Royce the most convincing smile I could. I didn't know whether it was convincing or not, but my mother looked away as if pleased.

"You look lovely Rosalie."

"As do you, Royce." My mother turned sharply at me, probably for mentioning him by his first name, but I didn't care. I stopped caring a long time ago.

My mother rushed us out of the house once we had a casual greeting. We walked in silence away from my house, and I just knew my mother was peeking through the curtains. I wanted to look back and catch her. But something told me she wouldn't have turned in embarrassment. She would've been glaring at me.

Royce didn't start with a conversation and neither did I. I stared at my hands a lot. They were dry. I should've washed them. Too late for that. I bit my lip and faintly tasted blood. It was probably just my imagination.

"Rosalie…" he started and I sighed. I didn't have a spine. I didn't tell him I didn't like him and never wanted to see him again. I had never threatened to bump him off like all the times I thought. But it wasn't as if I was in love with the gink, I knew that much. I just had to help Tom and Nate. I was confused. I was lost. I was lost and confused. I sighed again. He noticed.

"Rosalie…" he said again and I told him to stop. My name coming from his lips was just too much. It was soft, but masculine at the same time. I looked at him and his eyes are staring right through me. I couldn't look away. They were absolutely piercing. He looked worried, he really did look worried. He grabbed onto one of my hands and I immediately recoiled. He didn't try again. He didn't look down at our hands and I began to wonder if he never touched me at all. He waited for me to say something, to do anything. Since when was he so… _kind_?

I turned away from him and wanted to go home. I didn't like Royce. I never did. I shouldn't. I started to laugh. "Why are you so interested in me Royce?"

Then he began to laugh. "You don't waste time, do you Miss?"

And he was _polite_!

"No, I don't," I answered, looking directly at him, impatient.

He laughed again. It came from his throat and seemed slightly contagious. I bit my lip to stop the small smile from appearing on my lips. He was a beautiful creature. A beautiful creature I hated.

"Well, other than your… gams, you're quite beautiful." He wouldn't stop looking at me as he said the words. His eyes looked forlorn and fiery at the same time. Passionate. I frowned. It was all just common words from a common man looking for a girl. He noticed. "But I can see you're not that interested yet you hardly know me. Is it my money?"

I may have not liked him for how rich he was, but when it came down to it, I really did not care. My mother may have pushed me to try and marry rich, but without her influence… I didn't hate him.

"No."

"Am I ugly?"

I shook my head. I wish I hadn't because his next question truly stumped me.

"Then what is it?"

What was it? I made no noise and didn't move my eyes. I just stood there thinking. I could be standing there for the rest of my life and not give a proper reason. Because truthfully, I didn't have one. I knew that and I didn't even bother to think of an excuse. I had none. I didn't hate him.

Instead, I said, "I'm just not interested." I said every word slowly, not even believing myself.

"Can I try and change that Miss?"

I wanted to say no, but his words were so simple and curious and straight to the point and he probably would've taken no for an answer and back off like the perfect gentleman he was. He probably would've apologized for meddling into my life and end it with a Miss and a slight bow of his head and a tip of his fedora. He probably would've gave a small smile and try to brush it off. He probably would've still visited to try and subtly get my attention all the while being a perfect gentleman about it. He wouldn't stop trying. I had to give that to him, he was ambitious.

But I didn't say no. Instead, I turned and began to walk again and he followed close behind. I could feel the smile on his face beside me.

I still didn't know why I had done it. He was handsome. He had nice hair. He was always smiling. And if it wasn't on his lips it was in his eyes. He was happy. He seemed happy to be happy to me.

My mother said I deserved the best, and I did. Royce was of quality and having me alongside him would only glorify me. I was already stunning, I knew that. And with all the money he owned I could live an easier life during and after the Depression. And he seemed nice enough. And, and, and… the list went on. Vera's husband was nice and he loved her. Maybe he could love me too. Maybe I could have what Vera had.

I didn't know how long I was going to live. No one knew. The Depression took over everyone. I didn't want to die alone. And maybe it _was_ easier to love and to lose than to never have loved at all. Could I risk it? My own happiness was on the line. If I let Royce pursue me I could probably feel what Vera had felt when _her _husband courted her.

I just didn't want to die alone.

Someone of my splendour wasn't meant to die alone.


	6. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Ever since our first impromptu date, Royce sent flowers to my house every day. He continued to send roses, and each time I would get less and less irritated and more and more embarrassed at some of the very corny notes he would write. They were by no means dirty—it seemed impossible for someone of such a boyish charm who never went beyond trying to hold my hand—they were just really, really, _really_ painfully corny.

_What was I saying?_

I didn't like him—I had established that ever since my mother said his name. In fact, I hated him. But there he was tearing down whatever hate I had for him. He didn't even know what he was doing to me. And I think when it came down to it, I didn't really hate him. But that didn't mean I liked him. Right?

I sat on the front porch of my house mulling over the idea of Royce and I. I was subconsciously twirling my blond hair against my thin fingers, playing different scenes of our countless dates together. And to be honest, I _wanted_ that. I wanted to look up into someone's eyes. I wanted to smile with them. I wanted to laugh with them. Then their eyes would sparkle and he'd say marry me please and I'd hesitate and he'd get wide-eyed and tell me that it's okay if I wasn't ready and that'd he'd wait. And I'd whisper, please just wait for me because I would have to take it all in. Breathe.

I closed my eyes and dropped my head onto my knees.

When Vera married her husband it didn't matter much to me. I knew my time would come because if Vera could get married then surely I could too, right? But when the Depression started, suddenly the flirting stopped. Suddenly no one was interested in _me_. And when Vera gave birth to Henry I realized I was already seventeen and without a suitor. I was turning eighteen soon and I thought it was over. My mother, my father, and Tom and Nate depended on me, the _girl _of the family to help them.

And I wanted to help them. I really, really did. But now, I didn't know if I could.

It was just too confusing. I wanted to be like Vera—it was probably the first time I envied Vera instead of the other way around. When Vera married I was happy for her, but did I want to get married as early as she did? No, because then there would be no more pursuers vying for my attention. I told myself I wouldn't get married until my _twenties_.

My mother, being her natural self, told me I would do no such thing. So when Royce presented herself she was absolutely ecstatic that he showed some sort of interest in me.

Before I would have enjoyed him at my feet, but ever since the economy started to tumble I was reconsidering my own promise. If this Depression lasted any longer, who knew how long it would be before someone paid attention to me again? If I stopped seeing Royce and this… this _crisis_ didn't go away, I would never have a husband or children for as long as I lived.

And if it did stop, it could be too late. No longer would I be the beautiful Rosalie with thick blond hair that blew against the wind with porcelain skin like a doll's.

I groaned and tugged my hair.

I wished Royce never stopped my to see my father. The dying hate I had for him was killing me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't _love _Royce—at least not yet, I kept telling myself. I didn't need any of this. I wasn't ready when he walked into my life. I didn't know if I'd ever be. I would loved to be loved, but by him? I wanted the world to stop so I had time to think everything through, but I think that still wouldn't be enough.

I wanted to leave Rochester for a while and let Royce wait for me. One day, I would be ready. I was still young, I was still catching people's eyes. But I knew if I waited too long it would probably be too late and Royce would've found someone else and I would be left to die alone. I couldn't expect him to wait for me. I was so lost.

I should've met a nice boy who was rough around the edges. Someone I met without the aid of my family. Someone daring. Someone beautifully broken. A carpenter. That bronze-haired carpenter.

I sighed. Why couldn't _he_ have pursued me? But there was nothing special about him, just that he didn't look my way.

And that's how many hours flew by. I went inside at one point. I didn't remember when. What time was it? I didn't care. Too tired to look, too tired to notice.

I remained in my room, absolutely still, and weighed every possible pro and con of being with Royce that I could think of. It wasn't until my mother came into my room with a bouquet of flowers in her hand an ecstatic look on her face that I stopped thinking about it. From her face you would think the flowers were from a possible paramour of hers.

"Oh Rosalie, you'll never guess what I have!" my mother exclaimed.

"Flowers?" I replied dejectedly.

My mother sighed and ignored the remark. Then she picked up the note attached to the flowers—they were violets this time—and read it: "You probably got tired of the roses for Rosalie, so here's violets for your eyes that remind me of violets."

I looked at my mother's face and there was a dreamy look in her eyes. Despite the wrinkles and haggard lines on her face, I knew she was once a beautiful woman.

"I'm going to make sure he's dizzy with a dame when he sees you again! Oh"—she flipped the card—"be ready by noon." I couldn't tell if it was a question or not—by the way my mother had read the note. Even if it was I knew she wouldn't take no for an answer.

And like all the other times Royce had come over, my mother dressed me in a dress and had a glazed look in her eyes.

I wanted to back out. I wanted to stop myself from seeing Royce ever again, but I didn't exactly know why. I think if we had met under different circumstances, it could've been different. But my mother _needed_ me—probably more than I could ever imagine. Love wasn't something that came and went as I pleased. Love could wait. Right now I needed to _survive_.

So I let my mother do what she wanted to do. I wouldn't be selfish and let my own desire possibly destory my family. Right now they needed me. An maybe I needed Royce.

When she was done she was giggling like she had just finished a bottle of giggle water. How appropriate.

I smiled at her with tight lips just as I heard the door knock and open. I heard voice and footsteps and the sound of someone settling in. I breathed out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and followed my mother ut of my room, silently. She must have noticed my slight change in attitude, for she stopped right before we entered the room my father and Royce were currently residing in, and turned to me.

She didn't stay anything, she just stared at me.

"Is something wrong, mother?" I whispered, "do you need to sit down, drink some water? I could—"

"No Rose, everything's prefect," she said and I knew exactly what she met. I was finally accepting Royce. I was finally letting him in. Only after a couple of dates and a couple of days of meeting him I was finally trusting him—trusting him to help my family.

She then began to lead me into the room where Royce was waiting. He looked just like I remembered him, all glorious and charming. He held out his hand and I took it as he led me out the door. He made a joke to my father and gave a compliment to my mother and whispered to me how beautiful I was, but I knew he did not love me.

Our date was the same as any other date, particularly because there was no place to go and nowhere to eat. I grew fond of our walks anyways, and he took notice. We took a different route each time and basked in each other's presence. Or at least, he did to me. I just mulled over my own thoughts a lot. I was surprised he was still here.

"Rosalie?"

"Huh?" I asked, looking at him in the eyes.

"You were drifting. Penny for your thoughts?"

I was hesitant at first, but in the end decided to just let it all go. "I... I just... Do you like me?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't, would I?" He looked amused.

"It's just... my family adores you. In fact, my mother could talk all day about you that I bet if she wasn't married to my father _she'd_ be courting _you_."

He laughed.

"And it's just that, if you were only strining me along they'd be crushed. More than I would be. So if you don't have... any kind of _feeling_ towards me, then please tell me now."

Royce stopped walking as I kept moving forward. I turned to him as the soft wind tousled his hair and his hands lay at his sides. His hands were smooth and delicate to touch, but at the same time had a lot of strength in them.

He was closer to me now, right in front of me. "Rosalie... I.... I _like _you. Possibly more than like. Possibly even _love_."

Was that even possibe? Was it possible to love someone in such a short amount of time? Did love at first sight truly exist? He loved me, maybe I could grow to love him. I didn't love him yet—I didn't feel for him what he felt for me, but maybe one day I could. Or maybe this was the last chance at a family I could have. I couldn't let it slip away.

It was all happening so fast. It felt like only yesterday I met him and now he was telling me he loved me? I knew Vera's husband didn't tell her he loved her until two months later!

But right now I wasn't supposed to be thinking aboutlove. I was supposed to be thinking about _survival_, and this was my chance.

His forehead was resting against mine and his skin was soft. My hands reached for his face and let them rest on either sides of his cheeks. His jaw was strong, his voice passionate. There was truth hidden beneath those eyes. He was a beautiful creature with a beautiul voice and everything he said to me was beautiful. I wasn't in love, but maybe I was getting there. Maybe we could be lovers one day, despite how we lived in the washed out city of Rochester.

I didn't know how long we stood there because I couldn't help myself as I let my lips touch his. I was holding his face in my hands as I let our lips brush each others. I wanted to feel that surge pass through us, that feeling of nothing else mattering.

He responded quickly, returning the kiss as I pulled away. One of his hands was on my hip, the other on my back, touching the ends of my blond hair. I closed my eyes as I kissed him and let my hands touch his face. From his cheeks to his jaw to his neck to his shoulders, I travelled.

And I didn't feel the surge or the feeling of nothing else mattering, but maybe I had to give it time. Maybe one day, I could love him.

Whe he pulled away we stayed staring at each other before he broke into a smile.

"What?" I asked him, my voice raspy.

"I think I love you."

I let out a little laugh and looked back at him. He was looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to return the words. Except, I didn't love him, not yet. And I wouldn't say it until I meant it. My mother called me foolish when I told her that after she asked me if I told Royce I loved him. She said it wasn't about love anymore, it was about survival. She drilled that in my head, yet I still stuck to what I believed in. It was time I stopped thinking about myself, she told me.

I was about to repeat the words to him, to finally let go of what I believed in so I could survive in this cruel world. I needed to, but was interrupted when my brother suddenly came to view as he ran to our direction.

"Sorry for the interruption lovebirds," Nate started.

"Close your head Nate," I said to him, having no problem making my voice clearly audible.

"Yeah, yeah Rose. Mother just wanted me to ask if Royce would like to stay for dinner."

I turned to him, waiting for his answer. A part of me wanted him to say yes. Who had I become?

So when he said no I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. I was sure Nate noticed it too.

"I actually have to, my father is expecting me."

I nodded and he gave me one last fleeting look before turning away. Just as he was taking a couple of steps impulse took over.

"Royce, wait!" He turned his entire body towards me and my voice hitched in my throat. "Would you... like to do this again sometime?"

I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth, but they had already been said and I knew I couldn't take it back. I didn't think I would even have wanted to.

Royce smiled and I forgot Nate was still there. "Of course. You know, I thought you would have never asked."

"First time for everything?" I laughed at myself.

"Then I guess I'll see you soon Rosie," he said said with a smile on his face. I watched him walk away until I couldn't see him anymore.

"Rosie?" Nate asked, suddenly beside me.

I turned my head at him and nodded before walking back to our house, Nate following behind.


	7. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

Soon enough I spent almost all day everyday with Royce King II. My mother didn't mind—in fact, I think she encouraged it. And soon enough, I didn't mind either. He was the epitome of a perfect gentlemen—he never placed one foot out of line. He always smiled when spoken to and listened wholeheartedly. He never needed to be reprimanded and I didn't know what to think about that. There was nothing _wrong_ with him. He could have quite possibly been _too_ perfect. Not that I minded—sort of. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. If he had one flaw it would probably be that he was _too_ perfect.

It all started when we were sitting at the front of my house in the dry heat. Despite the economy, he was still dressed to impress. It was like he was unaffected my everything that was happening in Rochester. His fedora was slightly tilted to the left and his suit looked like it was freshly pressed. The way he walked, talked, and smiled looked as if he had nothing to worry about.

His hand was laced through mine, soft and warm, and he was talking about the bank and what he wanted to happen after this Depression was over. He believed that it would end soon enough, and I think, despite the smile he gave me, he was actually worried. Royce King, _the_ Royce King II, was worried. Because if the Depression didn't let up any time soon, he'd be out of money. No more would he be the man with endless fedoras and fresh suits. But at least he was optimistic about the situation.

I was listening and daydreaming as he spoke, only half there. I nodded along and I didn't think he knew I wasn't listening—or he didn't care. I managed to catch random pieces of what he was telling me: how much he made and how much he was making now, to what he wanted for the future—the future of the bank.

And as soon as I caught him saying it, I turned to look right at him.

"You know, my friend Vera is married," I tried to say as nonchalantly as possible. He immediately stopped talking and I didn't know if this was what I wanted. He stared at me and his fingers were still wrapped around mine. His hands were warm. It was hot outside.

He didn't say anything and I wondered if I should still continue. I did. "And she... has a kid, you know." Of course he didn't know. Too late for that. I was running out of things to say. But when did I know what I was going to say? "It's just... I don't know. Did you know she married a carpenter? He's three years older than her. They have a son named Henry and he's as cute as a bug's ear. He has dimples. He looks like him—his father, who's a carpenter, I mean... you know? And their money situation... they're doing swell, I mean, they're not beat." Suddenly, I wished I had a fedora to hide my eyes behind them.

"He loves her, a lot. He's practically dizzy with a dame. She married him at seventeen and... I'm almost eighteen. I wanted to wait, you know, because I'm really pretty and didn't want a husband to tie me down. But now... because of... of _this_, I might die _alone_. And my _mother_, she loves you, and she wants you and I to... you know. It's been two months and I don't know if you're ready or I'm ready and it's all very, very confusing, Royce."

I took a deep breath and continued to hold onto my hand. I wasn't looking at him now and I didn't know if I wanted too. Cautiously, I turned my head to him and noticed that he was looking away from me, deep in thought.

Great, I wrecked whatever we could have had. He was probably thinking of the best way to break it off with me. He must think I was crazy. I _am_ crazy.

Then, he slowly turned his head to look at me, and right when he opened his mouth I blurted out, "You're a good listener, you know that?" I told him, trying to laugh it off along the way, but I ended up just sounding like a wreck. I tried to make it come off as if I were joking. I didn't even believe myself. I wasn't sure if I wanted to either.

"Rosalie, how do you feel about us?" His voice was soft and gentle and kind and everything I could have ever hoped for in a husband. I imagined him talking like that, cooing soft words to our child—_our _child. I imagined him laughing at every soft sound the baby made. There was something about his voice. It was soft, but strong—passionate. He believed everything he said and it took himself to another place, and I'd be lucky if he took me along.

"I just... I don't know and I want—never mind." I looked at my knees an had never felt so nervous. I was Rosalie Hale, the blond girl with confidence that reverberated through me. I was the girl that could say what she wanted and never feel sorry, embarrassed, or guilty. But here I was with the one man that made me think what I said and watched what I did. He was my weakness and he didn't know it yet. And a part of me wanted him to know, but I wasn't sure if he even did or even cared.

Royce kept his blue eyes on me—I could feel it. "Rosalie, what is it?" He asked, and his voice was as gentle as ever. I was almost getting frustrated at how _kind_ he was.

"Nothing, it's stupid."

"No, it isn't," he told me, and I believed him.

I let out a breath and looked right into his eyes. They reminded me of the ocean. I wanted to go swimming. I wonder if he wanted to too. I should ask him. I probably wouldn't.

"Do you... do you ever think we could have something more? Maybe, start a family and find a nice house to live?" He didn't answer so I began to talk faster, my nerves taking over me, "I mean—of course not _now_, but when this—the Depression... it's all over. Do you—but you don't have to because I don't control you... but maybe one day? You know, have what Vera has?"

I was looking down the entire time that when I finally lifted my head to see him, he was looking away to the distance. I wasn't even sure if he had heard me. I sighed. "See, it is stupid—you don't want to."

"No, it's not that." He turned to me and there was a smile on his face and a wistful look in his eyes. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking _through_ me. And I let him. He touched his hands with mine, then began to trail it up my arms, to my shoulder, up my neck, and to the side of my face. His hands were soft and warm. I wanted him to tell me everything into my ear. Tell me who he was and where he came from. Tell me how much I meant to him. I would listen. His touch reminded me that it wasn't over, my life was not over. He smelled of roses. It was probably from the roses he sent me earlier today. He smelled of everything I dreamed of.

He leaned close to me and brushed his fingertips across my cheeks. He closed his eyes for a second and we both stood there. I didn't mind. I knew he didn't either. When he opened his eyes I saw him for who he truly was. And then, his voice soft, he told me, "I'll give you whatever you want, darling. And I actually wanted to tell you something today... before you started to talk about... well, all you talked about."

I knew then that the conversation would turn deeper. Every time we were together we were talking. To my mother, it was going as she planned. If I was talking deeply about a family then maybe he would marry me and my mother wouldn't have anything to worry about. It was what she wanted, and I guess I wanted it a bit too.

"Rose"—I loved the way my nickname rolled off his tongue—"I love you, and you know that. And you're right, it's been a long two months. Maybe too long. I know for your mother it is. People would think I'm marrying her!" He sounded so alive. He was practically everything I wished I could be.

Royce then stood up from the porch, but didn't walk away. I stayed sitting and he turned to look at me. I was in a white dress. It was simple, and it looked like I was going to a small wedding. Too bad I wanted a big one.

"I'm not going to try to take too long with this because I know you're mother is in the house, waiting by the door. I don't want to put her through much suspense," he said,chuckling at himself. His fair hair went over his eyes and I wanted to brush it back. I stayed sitting.

Then, it happened practically in slow motion. He walked up to me, so close. I had to tilt my head to see his face. He was blocking the sun, but that didn't matter, because he shined brighter then it anyways. He was smiling. I wanted to be with him forever. The colour in his eyes went for miles. I got lost in them.

He let out a shaky breath and kneeled in front of me, taking a hold of my hands and kissing them softly. It took me a moment to register what was happening. My hands started to shake and kissing them only made it worse. The wind blew softly against his hair and I didn't want this moment to ever end. This was everything I dreamed about. And Royce seemed to be everything I'd dreamed of. He was the fairytale prince, come to make me a princess.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale," he whispered, my name delicate against his lips, "will you do me, Royce King the Second, the honour, of being my wife?" And after he said that he pulled a ring from his pocket, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was bigger, shinier, and prettier than Vera's, and I couldn't wait to show it off.

I took a deep breath and felt like I was going to cry. Words couldn't form in my mouth so I ended up nodding my head. He took my hand and gently slid the ring through my finger before grabbing my hands and pressing his lips against them.

"You're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, Rose," he murmured into my hand.

I let out a shaky breath, but before I could say what I felt, the front door behind me practically flew open, and my mother came storming through, my father's hand laced through hers.

"Oh Rosalie, congratulations! I knew that today was the day! Oh, you're going to have such a lavish wedding, anything you want! Oh Rosalie!" My mother was almost crying as she hugged me.

When I looked to Royce and my father, I saw that they were shaking hands. My father was even smiling. I knew he was happy, and I was glad I could make them happy. My father wouldn't have to watch his money dwindle anymore. My parents were social climbers, yes, but I knew they needed this and I knew I had to give it to them.

"Nathaniel! Thomas! Your sister's getting married!"

And there we were, my family and Royce—though Royce was going to be family soon anyways—on my front steps with dusk rolling around the corner. My mother was staring at the jewelery on my finger, fawning over it and asking my father why her's wasn't as nice. When Nate and Tom finally came outside I knew that this was right And I knew I could spend forever with Royce and become Rosalie King.

**

* * *

**

Besides my family, the first person I told the engagement to was Vera. After Royce had left and my mother was done hugging me, rushed to Vera's house during the middle of the night. Her house wasn't far from mine, so I didn't have much to worry about either.

She hugged me and her husband congratulated me, holding little Henry as he did so. Now when I looked at Vera and all she had, I didn't feel jealous anymore, I felt kind of sorry for her. Soon, my little fair haired children would be running around the Kings' estate. Maybe a boy and girl, tumbling through the grass as the wind gently knocked them off their feet. Vera wouldn't be having what I was having because he husband couldn't provide all that like Royce would be able to. I know if pitied her, actually.

Soon, Royce and I would be married with our children and I would have what Vera was having and even more. Every think I could have possibly dreamed of was coming true, and I loved every second of it.

"When are you getting married?" Vera exclaimed.

"I don't know yet, he proposed to me a couple of hours ago and it was the sweetest thing! You should have been there Vera!" I told her and hugged her again.

I told Vera what exactly happened, from early in the morning to when he gave me the roses and even smelled like them, to when I had come to her house. She stared at me curiously and I couldn't help but feel proud of myself for getting the chance to marry a rich and powerful man like Royce. I knew she was jealous of everything I was going to have that she couldn't. When I finished my story, I tossed my blond hair across my shoulder and smiled so brightly at her.

Vera squealed and took Henry from her husband and she started to tell him of their wedding. Their wedding had been small and private, and she couldn't help but gush at every detail. Her's had barely any flowers and I decided mine would have rows and rows of flowers and many guests. There would be a before and after party, dancing, and pretty dresses.

Henry then started to coo and I asked if I could hold him. Vera let me and I held him in my arms. He was the sweetest thing with the cutest dimples and the brightest eyes. I couldn't wait to have it all. And all I was doing now was counting the days.

"Well, when you know when the wedding is, be sure to tell me, okay?" Vera asked.

I told her I would and saw that it was getting late. I told her I was going to head back home and she said goodbye to me, and her husband kissed my cheek. I smiled at them and gave Henry back to them, longing to when I would have a child of my own.

Instead of deciding to go back home right away, I decided I would see Royce first and try and set a date, despite only being engaged for a couple of hours.

I had never been to his house before, but Royce had told me once where it was. It wasn't completely dark yet, and the street lamps were on so I could see. I made my way through the empty streets of Rochester to Royce's house. The lights were on and I knew he wasn't alone inside. A part of me couldn't wait to show his friends the beautiful girl he was soon to marry.

I knocked on his door, but Royce wasn't the one who answered. It took me by surprised, but then I just figured it was one of his friends. He leered at me and I didn't bother to hide my disgust. I welcomed myself into the house, not caring that it might not even be the right one.

It wasn't. I saw Royce's back and I walked up to him, hugging him from behind and smiling sweetly. And that was when I noticed it.

I couldn't smell it from the door, or as I walked into the room, but it was probably because I wasn't even paying attention to the smell.

"Rosalie, there you are," Royce said to me, his head turned. I had let go of him and was now standing behind him, staring. He was smiling at me and I almost forgot why I was angry.

"Gentlemen," Royce continued, ignoring the look I was giving him, "this is my bride to be." He took my hand and showed them the ring, and all the men stared wide-eyed at it. I smiled proudly, but then I noticed the smell on their breaths. I turned back to Royce and grabbed his hand, bringing him close to me.

"Royce, what are you doing?"

He smiled lazily at me. "I'm just showing my friends what a beautiful bride I have," he said, his voice too sweet.

I rolled my eyes at him. "No, I mean, what is all this liquor doing in your house?"

Surely, Royce couldn't have not known. _Everyone_ knew. Liquor had been banned from Rochester since 1919. Of course he knew about the prohibition, right?

"Darling, do you know how easy it is to make money off liquor—especially when a man's bank is bankrupt?"

I wanted to understand, but I couldn't because what Royce was doing was illegal. "So you nicked liquor?"

"No."

"Then where'd you get it?"

"My friend Owen over there"—he nudged to his left, but I didn't even bother to look—"he's got connections, and offered to help me get my money after what happened to the bank." Royce was grinning, as if he was proud of what he was doing.

No longer was he the perfect gentlemen. Granted, his voice was still soft and his touch was still gentle, but there was another side to him, I knew.

I just shook my head at him and said to him, "You're going to get nailed."

Royce laughed a little. "No, Rose I'm not. You're the only one out of my little circle who knows, and as my fiancee, I'm trusting you with this secret. I know you wouldn't call a copper on your husband-to-be, would you?" He practically breathed every word he said. His breath reeked and I turned my head away. I knew he had drank some of the liquor.

His fingers caught my chin, slightly rough, and I looked up at him. "You wouldn't, would you darling?" He leaned in close and I knew that Royce wasn't completely there.

And for the first time his soft eyes turned dark. I tried to shake my head, but realized I couldn't. So instead, I opted for words. "Of course not, I'm just—it's just… it's _illegal_." I whispered the last word as if it were a curse.

Royce began to laugh. "Kitten, that's what makes it more _fun_. Do you want any?"

"No," I told him immediately, disgust evident on my face.

He smiled, but it wasn't as sweet as I remembered. "Good. A pretty doll like you shouldn't ruin yourself with it."

Then he captured my lips and a kiss had never tasted so bitter.


	8. Chapter Seven

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

I knew Royce was a good guy. Despite his possession of illegal liquor, I knew he was a good guy. He was no boozehound. He was sweet and caring and didn't have a dark side to him, I knew that.

Royce even escorted me home and my mother practically flew off the handle from the hallway, screaming and demanding to where I had been, but when she saw Royce she seemed to have forgotten everything. That made him the perfect gentlemen, right?

Before he left that night to go back home, I asked him when we could see each other again—to try and deter him from the liquor. He told me he had a lot of responsibilities with work and I didn't want to know what work he meant. So like a good fiancee I nodded and pretended that everything was okay and that everything was going to be alright. He kissed the corner of my mouth and I could taste the alcohol. He waved at my mother and shut the door softly behind him.

My mother demanded every detail of what happened with Royce and I, and I think she wanted me to tell her we had made love. But we didn't. When it came to Royce though, I think all morals were forgotten by my mother.

My mother kept telling me just how _perfect_ Royce was that I soon stopped believing it. I didn't tell her about Royce's new business, because I knew it would break her heart. Instead, I listened and agreed, laughed when I needed to, and spoke when the time came. She wanted to talk for hours, but I told her I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. My mother let me, which surprised even me.

Before I went inside my room, I went to Tom and Nate's. Tom had one of this lamp lights on and was reading a book, while Nate was sound asleep. I didn't think he noticed me yet.

"Can't sleep, Tom?" I asked from the doorway, and he looked up, slightly surprised. I lock my hands behind my back an wondered why I was worried. This was Tom, yet he always surprised me. Nate was so easy to read because he was so carefree, but Tom took care into everything he did and said.

"Nope," he told me and I knew he was lying. His voice was low and lethargic and I swore he almost yawned but stopped himself in time.

I laugh a bit to myself but I knew he could hear me. I let him. I asked him if I could say and he didn't say anything so I took it as a yes. I sat on the edge of his bed and watched as he put his book away and straightened himself. He just sat there for a few seconds before asking, "Yes, Rosalie?"

Now that I was in Tom and Nate's room, I couldn't comprehend why I was even there.

"Why are you here?" he asked me, and I he said it in such a way that wasn't even insulting. Now I felt bad for coming in and stopping him from reading what could have been a good book. I looked around his room and no matter how much I've been inside, it always seemed to change. Clothes were strewn about in the most random places and there were books on the floor that I didn't even know he had. It's warm though. Everything's comfortable and messy that it looked like an organized mess.

His room was small, so when I had nowhere else to look I looked back at Tom.

"I'm engaged," I told him, showing him the ring.

"I know," he said. Of course he knew I was engaged, he was there after Royce had proposed.

I didn't know what else to say so I sat there. I wanted to tell Tom abut Royce but didn't even know how I could start to tell him.

"Are you happy?" Tom asked and I was taken aback. Something about his tone couldn't have made me lie to him. I knew I was about to make a fool of myself for telling him the truth, but I couldn't hold back. I weighed my options of what I could say, but just decided to tell him the truth:

"I don't know," I whispered to him, as if I knew someone was listening through the walls.

Tom nodded, and didn't say anything else.

"But I love him," I added quickly. I knew I did. I _loved_ Royce King, I just didn't know if what he did was... right, and of course liquor didn't make me happy. Especially if he was making money off doing something illegally.

I turned away from Tom and decided to just say what I wanted to say and not hold back. I didn't want to think about it. I opened my mouth but hesitated. There I was, already stopping myself. Tom seemed to be patient though. Or he fell asleep and I just didn't know. I turned to look at him and saw that he started to read again. Of course he would. He must've been growing impatient.

I take the book from his hands and throw it across the room. Gently though, to not wake up Nate. Tom was about to probably yell at me, but I cover his mouth with my hand.

"I've got to tell you something, so listen." Tom didn't move so I removed my hand. "I love Royce, but I don't love what he's doing. He's doing something really, really bad... but making _a lot_ of money. And... I don't know, he could get in a lot of trouble. The kind of trouble that could land him in the can."

Tom was quiet for a while before saying, "What does lover boy do? Don't tell me he's a button man!"

"Of course he's not a killer, he's too sweet!"

"Well, then what does he do?"

I sighed. "He sells liquor."

"What?" Tom almost yelled, taken aback.

"I know. I found out today when I was at his house. He wasn't expecting me."

"You can't stay with him, Rose! One second he'll be selling liquor, the next he'll be bumping off people if he doesn't get the money he wants. It's a dangerous thing, Rose, you can't be seen with him?"

Tom came on so strongly that I didn't know what to think of it. Instantly, I got defensive. "I can't leave him, Tom! Look, I know what he's doing is bad, but when this Depression is over with he'll have the bank and he won't have to sell liquor anymore, okay? Besides, mother, father, and you and Nate need me. Without Royce we're not going to have any money and we're all probably going to just die! Royce is going to provide so much, and telling mother would kill her. Trust me on this, okay? I love him, just not what he's doing, but I know he'll stop—he said himself that the Depression looks like it's letting up itself. I just needed someone to talk to, okay?" I was rambling now, but I couldn't stop. I just kept going and going, and not once did Tom tell me to stop. He just sat there as I talked and when I was done he said:

"Okay, Rose. Just don't let him take advantage of you, and don't be a bunny. You may be my big sister, but sometimes you aren't that much of a wise head."

I couldn't grasp his humour as much as I wanted to, and just gave out a slightly strangled laugh. I got up from his bed and mumbled thanks before retrieving his book and giving it back to him. He shut off his lamp and I heard the covers move as he put it over his head.

Tom was smart. He knew what to say and he believed whatever he was saying. He spoke through his head and his heart, and held little to no boundaries. I loved him, I really, really did. I just didn't think he understood how much I loved Royce either.

**

* * *

**

When I woke up in the morning I wanted to go back to sleep. Forever. I didn't want to face Tom. I didn't know what I was thinking when I told him everything about Royce yesterday. I must've got drunk through the liquor fumes I inhaled yesterday that made me so carefree.

I sit up and rubbed my eyes. Light was barely coming through the window, but it was enough to almost blind me. Swinging my legs over my bed and turned my neck back and forth. It did nothing. I wasn't expecting it to. I sat on my bed trying to think everything through about yesterday _again_ and it was giving me a headache. Soon I just concluded that I loved Royce, so that was all that mattered, no matter what anyone said—even Tom.

When I get into the kitchen, all blurry and tired eyed, I didn't expect to see Royce there. He had been showing up a lot lately. Well, of course, since he was my fiance, I tried to tell myself.

He was sitting there and fresh and proper like I knew, and was talking animatedly to my mother, who was red in the cheeks and flustered. Royce had a way with words. I smiled a small smile.

"Rosalie, good morning! Look who stopped by!" my mother exclaimed, finally noticing me. Royce turned his head and smiled at me so softly and sweet, like the Royce I saw yesterday was just a pigment of my imagination. I liked to believe it was. I tried to convince myself it was all night. I still wasn't sure if I believed it.

I smiled at Royce and he came up to me. He held my hand and kissed it and my mother squealed. I noticed my father, who was usually up just as early as my mother, was not around.

"Where's father?" I asked my mother as Royce still held my hand.

I felt Royce's chuckle on my hand before he straightened himself and looked right at me. "Why, he's meeting with my father right now. It seems like your family's almost in debt. Don't worry, though. As my future wife, it is my responsibility to take care of you and your family." He smiled so sweetly it was almost sickening. I gave him a tight-lipped smile back and looked away and at my mother, who was smiling so brightly.

"You should have seen it, your father was so happy! I know you two lovebirds were meant for each other!" And I knew behind those words she was glad I was able to get Royce to give us some money.

Royce then took a step back. "That reminds me," he started, and headed for a box at the foot of the table. He held onto it for a moment before handing it to me. When I took it from his hands, I just stared at it, unsure. He was only smiling at me though, and my mother was looking at me expectantly, biting her tongue from demanding me to open the gift.

"What's this for, Royce?"I couldn't help but ask.

"Open it."

It wasn't wrapped in anything, so I opened the box. My mouth was agape as I placed the box on the table and pulled the garment from inside. Inside was a fur coat with brass buttons that instantly reminded me of Mae West. I heard my mother gasp behind me, but I was in too much awe to really notice.

But as much as I was impressed with the coat, I couldn't help but wonder _how_ he afforded it. What money did he use to buy this: his dwindling business at the bank, or his booming business with the illegal liquor?

"Royce, how did you afford this?"

He seemed to know what I was implying, so he took my hand and took me aside.

"Rose, I don't understand why you're so angry. It is illegal, but look how much money I'm making." To prove it, he pulled out a wad of cash from his suit. Then he continued, "And with all this money, I can buy you more jackets like that or even pretty dresses I know lookers like you like." His and was now on my hair as he wrapped his fingers around my blond tresses. My hair was long—a lot of women cut it short for their hats bu I loved my hair the way it was.

Despite what Royce did to make money, I couldn't help but be okay with it. It made money for my family, and for me. The fur coat looked absolutely beautiful and I couldn't help but love it even though I knew what he did to get it. Closing my eyes, I said, "Okay."

Royce smiled and took the coat from my hands and helped put it on me. I twirled around in it for him and he was smiling. He brought me back to my mother who went on how she adored it.

Then Royce turned to my mother and asked her, "May I borrow her for a while? I want to take her to my house and show what a lovely fiancee I have."

My mother didn't mind (of course), and asked for Royce to bring me back, to which he agreed wholeheartedly. He grabbed my hand and began to lead me to his house, the house that held all his liquor.

He seemed to know what I was thinking, so he turned to me and said, "Darling, don't be angry. With all the money I'm making we'll buy a nice house and a lot of beautiful dresses for you. Your family won't ever have to worry too. That's what you want for them, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And I'm not angry... just, worried. Be careful, okay?" I asked of him, looking into his eyes with such focus.

He chuckled and told me I didn't have to worry. I didn't know if I believed him.

Soon enough we reached his house, and some of his friends were already inside. I recognized one of them, but I for all I knew the rest could have been at his house yesterday, I just didn't pay them much attention.

"Gentlemen, you didn't really get to see her yesterday, but this is my beautiful fiancee Rosalie," Royce explained to everyone, and I couldn't help but feel proud to soon be his wife. His friends were jealous of him, and there was lust in all of their eyes. Except one.

He was standing to the side, beside many, but somehow all alone at the same time. He was staring straight at me, but there was nothing in his eyes. They were completely blank. I noticed him as the carpenter I saw a long time ago. I looked away. I tried to not pay attention to the bronze hair and rough hands. I didn't need him to look at me like the rest of the men did. He was just one person. I knew he found me attractive. I knew he thought I was beautiful. I didn't know his name.

Why did I want to know his name?

Trying to be as nonchalant as possible, I asked Royce, "Why don't you introduce me to all your friends?"

Royce looked taken aback for a moment, but quickly corrected himself. "Uh, well, that's Owen"—I recognized him and didn't bother to look at him—"Robert, James, William..." I didn't pay much attention to them, just waiting for what I knew would be the last name. "...and that's Edward. He's not really a friend just yet, he just wanted to see what this business was about, didn't you?"

_Edward._

"Yes, I wanted to see how all you gentlemen make such a great amount of money," he said, very smoothly. His voice was rich and low, but full of strength. He didn't once flinch as he talked, his voice steady. His eyes were on me the entire time, but since Royce was right beside me, he could have believed they were trained on him.

Royce turned to me. "Edward's father is that doctor, Dr. Cullen. It took me by surprise when he wanted in. But he's a trustworthy bird, don't you think? Every man needs his alcohol fix and he's no exception, aren't you? Especially when a man has grands of money like he has."

No, I didn't. He kept to himself and had an angular nose, defined cheeks, square jaw. His es were dark and he looked almost feral. He was rough around the edges, but for some reason also seemed soft. I hated him already. He looked as if he didn't care and hid his lust when I walked into the room. I already knew that I didn't like him.

I tried to not pay attention to him as I stayed with Royce for the rest of the day. Royce immersed himself in his business that I sat on a chair in the corner of the room most of the time. He brought me here but didn't pay much attention to me after the introduction he made. I watched Edward and every time I turned my eyes to him he seemed to know, and would look back at me. I glared at him and he didn't turn away. He laughed a quiet laugh and I knew it was mocking. I would look away and watch Royce and the entire cycle would start again.

Edward talked with the others and bought a ton of liquor himself. He pulled an impressive amount of cash from his pocket and it didn't match the way he looked. He had suspenders and his pants were dusty and dirty, contrasting with the men in suits around the room. He didn't look like he cared. I didn't think he knew, but that made him more appealing.

Royce put Edward's liquor in a box that looked all too heavy, but he carried it over his shoulder with ease like it didn't weigh a thing. The other men were surprised at his strength too, but didn't pay it much attention when they looked at the amount of money he gave them. I watched him leave and my eyes lingered on the door long after he was gone.

When I looked back at Royce he was staring at me. I gave him a small smile and whispered to him that I loved him. Satisfied, he turned back to the money and I sighed, leaning back against the chair. I looked around the room and saw a few bottled lying around, evident that some of the men already drank some. Their entire supply of liquor was located in another room, away from the door or windows. For the rest of the day I watched as some men came inside the house—and sometimes leering at me—before leaving. Royce told the first couple of men to back off, but after a while, he stopped caring. He was probably tired.

I saw the bottles beside him and knew he had one too many drinks. When it got really late, all the men began to leave, saying they'd be back tomorrow. Royce's back was to me for most of the day, but when all the men left he turned to me, a lazy smile on his lips.

"Rose, come here," he beckoned.

I stood up, my legs stiff, and made my way to him. He grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me against him. I could smell the liquor on his breath and he noticed the disgust on my face.

His hand reached up and held my chin, bringing his lips onto mine. I could taste the alcohol, but endured, kissing hi back. His other hand traced along the side of my body, resting on my hip.

"You are so beautiful, I want you right now..." he murmured against my lips and I knew part of him wasn't there. His hand dropped from my hip and his fingers were on the hem of my dress. Soon enough, his fingertips were brushing my leg and reaching higher. His touch felt cold on my warm skin.

Immediately, I broke the kiss and took a hold of his hands. "Royce..."

"What is it Rose?" he growled, breaking my hold and putting one of his hands at the top of my chest. He slid his hand down the centre of my body, but I took a hold of his hands once again.

"You're drunk, Royce," I told him.

But that didn't stop him. He lifted my dress so it was resting on my hips, the other hand on top of my dress and on the underside of my breasts. He started to kiss me again and I hesitated. I never kissed him back.

Soon both hands were on my hips and I flinched, his touch cold. He held onto me though and started to rub my thighs, getting higher. I put the palms of my hands on his chest and said through our kiss, "Royce... not now."

He paused briefly before continuing. I took a hold of his hands again and stepped back. I was having trouble breathing right. "You're drunk," I repeated.

"No Rose, you're hesitating," he said, his eyes lazy as he touched my leg again.

I took another step back and brought the dress back down to its full length. I sighed. "Just take me home," I told him, my voice shaky.

Royce sighed and stood up, before coming close and staring right at me. Then, he said, "A beautiful girl like you shouldn't wait forever."

He didn't wait for me as he left the room.


	9. Chapter Eight

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"You 're wedding is going to be absolutely wonderful! There will be rows of flowers and the most beautiful dresses—Royce can afford that, can't he—of course he can! Oh, we'll invite the closest friends! But not Charlotte, she can be a nuisance..."

I listened to my mother drone on and on about the wedding that it would look like she was planning her own wedding. I was leaning against the wall with Royce's phone pressed against my ear. My mother didn't pay attention to my passiveness or unresponsiveness, but she probably didn't care.

She didn't even suspect that something could be wrong by the way her daughter was giving simple yes or no answers to her on the phone. My fingers were rubbing my temples as I felt a headache coming on even though I didn't drink yesterday. Just thinking about Royce drinking gave me a headache.

I hadn't gone home last night because he wasn't in the mood and I didn't want my mother—who I knew would be waiting—to see him drunk.

_I took another step back and brought the dress back down to its full length. I sighed. "Just take me home," I told him, my voice shaky._

_Royce sighed and stood up, before coming close and staring right at me. Then, he said, "A beautiful girl like you shouldn't wait forever."_

_He didn't wait for me as he left the room._

_I knew he wasn't completely there and I knew that if my parents saw him they would be absolutely heartbroken. I couldn't risk it. They expected so much from me and to have it all taken away that would just leave them disappointed... I didn't know if I would be able to handle it._

"_You know what," I told Royce as he held onto a wall. He gazed up into my eyes, his eyes only half open. "I'll stay here tonight. It's late. I don't want to disturb my parents if they're sleeping." He had a lazy grin on his face and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Since when did I hold back? Since I saw a drunk Royce who was twice my size and I wasn't completely sure of what he could do when he was inebriated._

"_I'm just staying the night. No... whatever you want to call it. I'm just sleeping here, okay. And I'll call my parents in the morning."_

_He seemed satisfied enough and told me he'd be in his room waiting for me, and that he expected his bride-to-be to come. Before he left he leaned in close and pressed his lips against mine. My body involuntarily tensed, but he didn't notice. He was holding my hips and pushing me towards the wall. His hands were travelling and he tried to deepen the kiss, but going intimate with Royce was one of the last things on my mind. I went stiff and he didn't seem to care, because when he was done he went to his room._

_I didn't say anything the entire time and he didn't care, or he forgot to wait for an answer, and stumbled out of the room. I looked at the empty bottle with disgust, on its side on top of the table. As I looked behind it I noticed a telephone. I looked at Royce's door and saw that it was ajar, but I knew he was probably dozing off already. I stood waiting and listened closely before retreating back to the telephone._

_I bit my lower lip and contemplated my situation. Before I could actually think it through, however, I was already calling my home. As I suspected, my mother picked up._

"_Rosalie, it__'s late, where are you?" She sounded frantic, but I was sure there was some kind of hope in her voice._

"_Mother, I'm staying at Royce's tonight, it's late."_

_And like I knew, she was okay with it and told me I should stay more often. She tried to talk more, but I told her I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. She understood completely, but before she could hang up I asked if I could talk to Tom. She told me he was sleeping. I told her I didn't care._

_It was quite for a moment before Tom's lazy voice drifted into my ears. I needed to hear his voice._

"_Hello?" he asked, yawning in the process._

"_He's drunk, Tommy," I whispered into the phone, my fingers drumming on the table in anticipation._

_I expected the 'I told you so' or the taunting, but he gave none of that._

"_When the Depression's over he'll probably be back to his old self, Rose," Tom told me, trying to reassure me with my own words. I didn't know if I believed myself anymore._

_I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I was tired. I wanted to go to sleep._

"_I didn't want them to see him like this, so I'm staying over, okay? Mother seems excited at it, actually." I let out a strangled laugh. "Do you really think he's going to stop with the liquor when this is all over?"_

_I didn't get an answer. Instead, I got someone's hand around my wrist, pulling me to them. The phone fell from my hand and onto the table, and I felt strong arms wrap around my chest._

"_Who were you talking to?" Royce asked, his rancid breath surrounding me._

_I raked my brain for any excuse I could give. "N-no one. I mean, no one important. Someone called... one of your friends, he wanted to—I... he wanted to talk to you about something, but you were sleeping. And... and I—I just was asking him about how long you would do... the 'liquor business' I don't know. I was curious and just wanted to ask him, I didn't mean to pry or anything, I—"_

_I couldn't look at his eyes. I knew they were red and absolutely dangerous._

"_You're a horrible liar, Rosie," he seethed, and I dug my nails into the palms of my hands, nervous, "who were you talking to?"_

"_I told you, I—"_

"_Who were you talking to?" he began to yell, grabbing a hold of my wrists and tightening around them._

_I tried to push him off, but instead he fell onto me and we crashed against the wall. My back hit the corner of the table and I let out a cry, before hitting my head against the wall. He pinned me down and soon I couldn 't breathe. His arm was pressing against my chest and I needed air._

"_Royce, stop," I breathed out._

"_Who were you talking to?"_

_At that point, I needed air so much that I just decided to give in._

"_Edward," I murmured, his name coming from my lips hurting my chest._

_Royce 's hold loosened and he narrowed his eyes at me. For a second I thought he would know I was lying. I told him Edward because I knew if I said Tom I would be in big trouble. Royce's face was as red as his eyes and he was breathing in deep. I hoped I had worn him out. His strength, even when not fully there, was still much stronger than mine._

_I watched helplessly as he came close again, his lip inches from mine as he stared into my fearful eyes. Never was I scared of anything or anyone, but Royce could knock down whatever walls I had so easily._

_He was breathing heavily and I could smell his breath. I resisted making a face, knowing it would probably set him off. His chest touched mine as he breathed in deep and he leaned close, kissing the corner of my lips, his teeth the biting them as well. It hurt, but I didn't make a sound. Then as he pulled away, he whispered to me as his eyes were still trained on mine,"Nobody like a liar." And as he said the words I knew he hadn't fully believed me. _

_He grabbed my wrist and brought me into his room. He pushed me onto the bed and got in himself. He didn't make a move. He was probably too tired. A part of me was glad. I had trouble sleeping that night, and I didn't want to know how much he would remember once he woke up._

"Rosalie, are you still there?" my mother was practically yelling through the earpiece.

I snapped out of my thoughts and told her, "Yeah, just daydreaming, mother. I agree with the wedding plans."

"Oh, I knew you would. I am so excited! He is such a prefect gentlemen, tell him to escort you home!" I agreed and we talked for a little more before she finally left. I was sitting on a chair and resting my elbows on the table. My head was in my hands and I sighed. My mother thought Royce was this perfect man, when really, he was far from it. If she ever knew what he did for a living I didn't know how she would take it. I could see it, how disappointed she would be at the last hope for the family as she completely failed them.

I couldn't let Royce continue on like that. I needed him to stop before he went too deep into selling illegal liquor.

**

* * *

**

All of Royce's friends came back in the evening, and after spending so long with them yesterday, I knew all of their names, and I was pretty sure they knew mine. The only one who wasn't there however, was Edward.

…Not that I cared, of course. I tried to convince myself that as I tossed my blond hair over my shoulder, catching a few stares along the way.

I was sitting on one of the room away from the phone. Royce told me he didn't trust me with it. I didn't care though. My arms were folded across my chest and I told Royce I wanted to go home, but he told me I had to stay. I didn't try to fight him after the third time I asked and the third time he said no, because I knew he had a couple of drinks already and I didn't want to get involved with _that _kind of Royce again.

None of his friends tried to talk to me because I wasn't a friend to them, just Royce's fiancee, and Royce was concentrating too much counting the money he made and watching as men came in and out of the house to get some liquor. He wasn't drunk yet, but I knew he was getting there. Whenever someone was a dollar short he got aggressive and his friends had to hold him down so he couldn't attack any customers. His friends were also drinking, chatting happily as they did so.

I told Royce I wanted to go to sleep—anything to get out of the room—but all he had to do was glare at me from across the room and all tiredness seemed forgotten.

I could feel the bruise on the side of my hip from where I hit the table and my back ached from hitting the wall. My head slightly pounded, but I could deal. I was leaning against the table and my eyes were only half open.

"Why doesn't your lovely fiancee have something to drink? She looks tired. Give her a stiff hooker of whiskey, eh?" I knew it was Owen talking. I turned my head away from him, not in the mood to talk. My eyes were then locked onto Royce's.

"Can I go now?" I asked him, shutting my eyes and rubbing them with my fingers.

Royce ignored my request. "Owen asked you a question, Rose. Aren't you going to answer him?"

_No._ "No thank you, Owen," I said, trying to muster as much fake happiness I could. I was thinking about giving him a smile but I knew that would be too much.

I looked back at Royce and he was ignoring me. I sighed. With new found strength I said across the room, "You're going to get nailed and sent to the big house, Royce. Having bent cars can't be as worse as this."

Royce turned to me and his passive expression turned into anger, and I could tell he was annoyed. I wanted to be alone, or at Vera's,but I knew he would have none of it. At the same time, I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to just breathe some fresh air for a while.

"You're wrong, Rose. The only way we get sent to jail is if you open your mouth, because none of my boys are going to say anything, right?" He turned to them and they all agreed. All eyes were on me now and the strength I thought I possessed was vanishing.

"Just let her go, Royce. She's miserable here. She doesn't want any of the money," his friend William said.

Royce thought about it for a moment before finally agreeing. Pushing his chair back he came towards me and I thought he was going to grab me and pull me close. Instead, he reached behind me and pulled the coat he had bought for me. He helped me into it and whispered, "I'm letting you go because you're being a pain today. But I expect you to act like a proper fiancee when you come back, got it?" His lips were brushing my cheeks and to his friends, it probably looked like a loving gesture. It hardly was.

After he helped me into my coat he took a hold of my hand and led me to the door. When his friends were out of sight he dropped my hand.

"Aren't you going to ask where I'm going?" I whispered, fully expecting him to have done earlier.

"I don't care," he spat, "but if I find out you told someone about my business, I won't be happy." He was threatening me and for once a part of me knew it wasn't just from the alcohol. I had a hard time understanding how someone I loved could hurt me like that. I tried not to cry.

He stood staring at me, waiting, but I wasn't sure of what. I waited too, before I opened my mouth and said, ever so quietly, "I love you, Royce." The words came out choked.

He gave no reaction and I wasn't even sure if he heard me. I was going to repeat the words, but then his hand came to my elbow and the other to the side of my face. His touch was soft, and I was surprised.

I was expecting him to tell me he loved me too, but the words never came out. Instead, I felt his hand touch my leg and I stiffened, fear taking over me once again like it had yesterday.

I stepped back from him. "Is that all you love me for?" I whispered harshly to him.

He looked at me and grinned. "Of course darling. Your gams, your pretty face. All my mem are jealous of me." He reached for my face and pulled me for a kiss again, faster than I could react. He tried to reach higher on my legs, but I pulled back.

"You're drunk again, Royce. I'll be back tonight. Actually, I don't know yet. I'll be back when you stop drinking," I said more harshly than I intended.

When I turned to leave he took a hold of my arm and pulled me back, seething as he said into my ear, "Don't ever try to talk like that to me again, Rose." Then he opened the door and pushed me out of his house. The door slammed loudly behind me and I listened to his footsteps retreat back to his friends. I found it hard to breathe and had to count steadily. I wanted to cry, but above all, I was angry. As I barely heard Royce's half drunk laughter, my anger intensified.

It wasn't dark just yet, and instead of going home I decided to go to Vera's. I couldn't be alone today, not tonight.


	10. Chapter Nine

**CHAPTER NINE**

It wasn't a long walk to Vera's, but I had so much to think about that for all I knew it could have taken hours. When I knocked on her door she looked a bit taken aback, but welcomed me in nonetheless. On her arm was cute, little Henry, and I couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

They're nice, he's nice. Her husband was smiling, but also rough around the edges. When I walked past him my fingers brushed his hand and I knew he was a carpenter. They reminded me. Too much, too soon.

I went to Vera and she gave me Henry to hold. He looked at me with wide eyes and held onto a piece of my hair. He probably never saw long hair before. When it came down to it, everyone in Rochester thrived in their social status, so a lot of the women here had short hair in waves. Even his mother. I just couldn't part with my hair, no matter how much my mother first insisted upon it.

I was so enamoured with Henry that I almost forgot about Vera and her husband. I had noticed them from the corner of my eyes, and tried to ignore them. I couldn't. Of course I couldn't.

His hand was on her elbow and he was leaning in close. She was laughing and he was smiling. He probably said something funny. His other hand was on the back of her head. He kissed her forehead and she laughed quietly again, trying to be discreet. I quickly turned back to Henry before they could catch me. They weren't even paying any attention to anyone but themselves. I bet if I walked out the door with Henry they wouldn't have even noticed. Not that I would.

She giggled again and grabbed his head and made him kiss her lips. They were smiling the entire time. He was everything she needed. She was everything he needed. They were everything I needed.

I tried to pay attention to Henry by playing with his hair that I loved. His hair was black and curly and almost as cute as his dimples.

"So Rosalie, when's the wedding?"

I stopped curling Henry's hair and looked up at the couple, who were now looking as if they hadn't done anything moments ago.

"Oh, maybe next week? We're not sure yet. All I know is that my mother wants it soon. It's like she thinks she's the one getting married." I laughed at that and they did too.

Vera came close to me and I reluctantly gave Henry back to her. As she cradled him in her arms she looked at me and asked, "You love him, right?"

"Of course, that is why I'm marrying him Vera. You of all people should know that!" I said to her, half jokingly.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Vera said back, giggling, "I'm just checking, okay? I know your parents, Rose, and I want to make sure you're okay. If you need a place to stay, you're welcomed here."

She was so oblivious to everything with Royce that I wanted to cry. I didn't. I just nodded and I thanked her and she smiled and I smiled and Henry cooed. I wanted to tell her everything, I wanted to tell her more than I told Tommy. Royce and I have nothing on Vera and her husband.

The lack of love killed me—everything we had before: gifts and small kisses and affectionate names and looks were gone. But then I remembered it was what my family needed, and I put them before myself. I just didn't know if I wanted that. And usually, I wouldn't. What I was doing now was against Rosalie Hale's nature. There was someone else in me because I didn't do those kind of things where I put someone else ahead of myself. To survive, I had to depend on myself, but my mother and father—who were avid social climbers—made me think otherwise. They made me scared. They made me rely on other people for things like they relied on me. They taught me that I _had _to depend on others and they made me depend on Royce. They told me _he_ would provide. And in turn that made me so much more vulnerable, to have someone control me.

That was it. Despite my beauty, my power over others, and the way people would stare at me, I really didn't have it all. Vera did. She had everything I could ever wanted and I would gladly trade it all to just be in her place.

I had a hard time telling people things. I could barely tell Tommy about Royce's drinking, and here I was not able to tell Vera. I couldn't let Vera have something I didn't: a husband, a man that loved her. I wanted that and I was supposed to have that. I had a hard time talking to people—trusting people. I had a hard time opening up to them and letting them know about me, which went beyond my hair and what I wore and the boys I flirted with shamelessly.

I was afraid to let people in. I was afraid to let people see me as the girl who loved to read and cook and take long walks. Beyond presenting myself to others I liked to stay at home with my family and hopefully have one of my own. And the reason I went out a lot was to get people to look at me and stare at me and wish they could have me even though I know and they know they never could. I sought out praise to feel my own worth. Whereas Vera was perfectly content on where she was.

Maybe I was never meant to be happy.

Vera was my closest friend, yet she barely knew half the things about me. I didn't confide in her or anyone, I kept everything on the inside while putting a smile on my face. I didn't tell people things, I had a hard time trusting people. I couldn't let them find a flaw in me and use it against me. I could never let people in. If I did, they would have something that could destroy the best of me.

I needed them to know I was beautiful. I needed them to see me as flawless. In there eyes, I was. I needed to be reassured by someone, and when Royce came, he was my saviour. He made me sane. He made me feel worthy, and that him and I together was only adding to that. I just didn't know if we were the lovebirds I dreamed about.

I was so lost in thought that I found myself nodding as she started to talk about herself, her husband, and Henry, and how she wanted another child. Vera and I talked about trivial things, and I constantly tried to deter her away from talking about the wedding, but she kept pressing on and on. I hadn't given it much thought, only that there would be a small number of guests. My usual extravagant self where I would invite the whole town just didn't seem right with Royce. My mother, however, would have none of that and practically started the guest list herself.

At one point her husband put Henry to be and fixed up whatever dinner they could make. They weren't as wealthy as Royce, so they couldn't have the big dinner like I had with Royce so many times.

"Royce sounds like a handsome man," Vera said, interrupting my thoughts as she leaned in close to me with a smile playing on her lips. She liked gossip, I knew. She thrived in it.

"Yeah, he is," I replied dully, and he was. He always had a fedora hat on, matching whatever suit he was wearing. It was like his signature thing, that hat.

Vera frowned at how much I wouldn't cooperate. She'd been trying to obtain gossip from me for the past however long, but I wasn't telling her anything. I kept thinking about Royce and my parents and… _everything._

"Rosalie, are you okay? This isn't you. Remember when you first talked about your wedding? I couldn't get you to stop, and now tat it's actually happening, you're not saying a word. You can stay here tonight, if you would like to."

I didn't know if I wanted to stay the night at Vera's like she offered, because then she would know something was going on. And I knew if I didn't go back to Royce he'd be angry, especially if he was drunk. And if he told my parents they would be livid, especially my mother. The best solution was to just go back to Royce anyways.

"Oh, I'm just nervous, that's all. Wedding's are different once the real thing's about to happen." I smiled, trying to reassure her that I was alright, but I didn't know if she believed it. I wouldn't have. I was lying through my teeth, and I didn't even know if I wanted the real thing to even happen.

We talked some more and I gave her the same short responses. Our conversation didn't last long though, because her husband came out and said their dinner was ready and asked if I was going to stay. I declined their offer even though they both insisted and headed for the door. It was getting late, and I needed to go back to Royce's anyways. I told them he was expecting me, and that wasn't a complete lie.

"Okay Rosalie," Vera said. She walked me to the door, but before I could leave she said, "Oh! I almost forgot something. Rosalie, wait here!" Then she bolted into another room before I could even give her an answer.

When she came back, she was holding something behind her back, smiling. "You didn't mention it at all the entire time you were here that I almost forgot."

"Forgot what?" I asked, twirling my blond hair around my fingers.

"Your birthday! Are you sure you're okay Rose, you're usually more… vocal about these things."

I gave a weak laugh. "You know, nerves and all."

Vera gave a small laugh and stared right into my eyes. "It's not much, but…" she trailed off and showed me what was behind her back.

It was a fedora much like Royce's, except the one she had was pink. I couldn't suppress a smile and a small laugh escaped my lips. "No, it's perfect."

"You and Royce'll match!" Vera said excitedly, probably glad I was happy with her gift.

"Thank you both so much. I should be getting back now—Royce is probably waiting for me. At midnight he'll probably want to celebrate my birthday already. I forgot, but he probably remembered!" I doubted that. I smiled at her and her husband before abruptly turning around and said to them one last goodbye, and that I'd probably come around tomorrow. She said that I was welcomed.

I put on the fedora Vera had given me and walked down the dirt road towards the direction of Royce's house. It was late out. I looked behind me and I wished I hadn't. I saw Vera's husband kissing her cheek. It was soft and gentle, yet passionate at the same time. Something so small was much more than it led on. His arm was around her waist and her hands were splayed across his chest.

Instantly, my heart began to crumble. They must have thought I was already leaving, or they were shoving it down my throat.

I turned and began to walk away. What was I thinking? Royce was my prince, and someday, I would be his princess, just like I always imagined.

I didn't know if I believed myself. On the way to Royce's house I had all the chances to go back to my home with my family—where I probably belonged—but didn't. I kept going. I had to think it through though. I wrote off all the lies and knew I didn't have what Vera had. His kisses weren't as tender and his touches were more rough. Maybe I should just break it off with him?

Beyond his wealth, his looks, and my parents appraisal of him, there was nothing. I couldn't figure out who he was as a person and where his values stood. I didn't know where he saw us ten years from now, or if there even was an _us_. Knowing him, his future might have probably just have him in it.

But I couldn't leave. My parents needed him in their lives, and I needed him. He was my last chance at happiness because he'd been the only boy in months to court me.

Was love even an option anymore?

I looked into the sky—there were no stars out. There never was. It was dark and the lamps were already on. They were the only way I was finding my way around. I hadn't realized how late it was. If it wasn't for my birthday I would have probably forgotten it was April. It was cold for April. Usually I celebrated my birthday outside all day because it was hot.

Royce didn't even say anything when I left his house. Did he even know?

I tried to not let it get to me, but it did. I tried to think about the wedding. It was about a week away, and if the weather didn't get better I didn't know what we were going to do. Knowing my mother, if there was a tornado she'd still insist for it to go on.

But did I want to marry a man I didn't even love?

Love.

I stopped in my tracks and the cold wind wisped around my body. I could barely feel the warmth of my skin. I knew where I was going—not Royce's or Vera's, but to my own home. I didn't know why exactly, and I didn't know my true intention, but I was heading home.

I could see the cold air coming from my breaths as I sped to my house. I turned once, for no particular reason, and only saw the night behind me. Something about it scared me. I picked up my pace, and soon, I found myself running. I was running from something I couldn't even see—I didn't know what I was running from.

Suddenly, I heard laughing, and under a streetlamp were men, about five of them, all clearly drunk. I tried to hurriedly walk past them, but they noticed me. If I ever wanted someone to _not_ look my way, it was today.

"Rose!" someone yelled, and I knew that voice anywhere. What was once gentle was now deafening.

It was Royce. I should have figured, him and his friends were the only one supplying illegal liquor anyway. They must've been completely out of it to even wander at night clearly inebriated. I continued walking, but caught a glance at who he was with. Will and Owen were there, but also some other faces I couldn't identify. Faces I didn't want to identify.

"Here's my Rose!" Royce shouted and stumbled to me, latching onto my arm and bringing me to them. I was scared, but soon I became angry, angrier than before. I tried to push him away, but his hold was too strong around my thin wrist.

He was laughing and I didn't know why. I didn't bother trying to figure out.

"You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting long!"

I knew then that he was completely out of it. Before, he was still somewhat aware of what he was doing, but with the glazed look in his eyes, I knew he would have no recollection of what happened the next day. And I knew I needed to get out before he did something he wouldn't have done if he were sober.

"Royce, I was at Vera's, you know that—"

He kissed me before I could finish and I couldn't pull away. His friends were laughing and I felt him smirk on my lips. I frowned. He didn't notice.

"Where'd you get the hat darling? It looks a lot like mine," he said very tauntingly.

"I got it from Vera, it's my birthday today," I reminded him, but I knew he didn't care.

"Oh is it?" he practically sneered, "Well me and my boys have a gift for you too, for your very special birthday." Then he turned to his friend—one I didn't know. "What did I tell you John, isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?" Royce exclaimed, and John—who had dark hair and was suntanned—leered at me, and I was more uncomfortable than ever.

He was grinning as he stepped closer, and I would've flinched, but Royce was holding onto me too tightly.

"It's hard to tell," he began, his words slurring, "she's all covered up."

They all laughed and Royce pushed the hat away from my head. "Your hair's too pretty to be covered up," Royce slurred before he reached for the jacket he had bought me, brass buttons and all, and tore it off me. While doing so he practically yelled, "Show him what you look like, Rose!"

I took my chance then. While his hands were on my coat I bolted and started for my house. This was a different Royce, more different than a drunk Royce. He was out of control. And I knew I didn't love him, not like I used to, if you'd even call it love.

Royce had tried to grab me, but only succeeding in letting the jacket get caught on my hair, wrenching my roots. I tried not to scream so they couldn't laugh, but I couldn't help it. It hurt too much.

I didn't let it slow me down though. My mind was lulled and dazed that I hadn't realized where I was headed. I headed for the darkness so they wouldn't be able to find me and just give up. I had grown tired, but I kept pushing myself, and I felt like my lungs were going to burst from my chest. My chest itself was burning. There was no adrenaline rush. I was alone.

But I kept moving. I felt myself slowing down, but I didn't care where I was going and I didn't care where I would stop.

I could hear them behind me though. Their footsteps rang into my ears and I felt like crying. I wanted to cry. The cold winds were like frozen hands clawing at me, slowly numbing my body. I wasn't warm anymore and my energy was draining. The footsteps grew louder. The voice intensified. I heard Royce yelling.

Looking around, I had no idea where I was, and I felt death start to surround me. I was shutting down and I didn't even know how to fight. My arms were numb now. I hadn't realized I stopped.

_WHAM!_

I felt something slam behind me and I fell forward, but I was able to catch myself from falling. I could smell his breath and I knew that touch. It was a touch I wanted to forget, but knew I could never stop remembering.

I moaned, and the contact against my cold and numb arms made me cry out in pain. I wasn't strong, I knew that, but never in my life had I felt so weak. It was hard to breathe. I didn't try to look up.

I could see five pairs of shoes and I knew they were all rich, I could tell just by the shoes. Anything to take the focus off and into something else. I saw Royce crouch down and grab onto my hair. "Your coat wrecked your pretty hair, Rose. Have you been crying? Oh darling, don't cry." He wiped away my tears, but I knew there was no meaning behind any of it. I slapped his hand away and he hit me on the side of my head.

"Royce, when I said she was all covered up, I didn't mean just the jacket," John drawled.

They were insane, all five of them. They were completely out of it. I knew I had to escape. Vera's house wasn't far from here, but then again, I had no idea where I had run off to.

I heard Royce laughing. It hurt. I felt him grab my hair and pull it back roughly. "Kitten, don't be scared. I know how much you love men to look at you. Like Edward, right? You couldn't stop staring at him. I'm only giving you what you want."

"No—"

"Close your head, darling." He was smiling and it made me sick. I tried to say more, but couldn't. I was cold and I felt myself crying.

He threw my head to the ground and the hopeful side of me thought they would leave, thought that I was going to die, but they didn't. I felt Royce's knees on my sides, coming close.

"You're so beautiful, any man would be lucky to have you. You're so—"

Before he could finished I punched him as hard as I could, hitting the side of his face. He stumbled back and I tried to get up and turn so I could run away as the four others stared stupidly.

I heard him say something, as well as the others, but I blocked out their threat and tried to run. I didn't get far because I felt myself heading for the ground again. My head hit the floor and I felt everything around me starting to turn into black. I could still hear and feel, but my eyes were barely open.

I couldn't stop them. My body was numb and cold. I was pinned down, but I didn't know by who. I didn't know if I wanted it to be Royce. I was on the ground and was too shocked to cry, and in too much pain to move. I felt hands, large and rough, and I wished I couldn't feel.

My legs felt the cool air and I knew my skirt had been pulled up. I couldn't kick because someone was holding me down. Then I heard a tearing noise and I knew something had been torn off of me. I tried to push them off and ended up with a punch to the ribs. I cried out and felt someone hit me again.

"Stop it! Royce—" I screamed, but I knew it wasn't more than a whisper that just came out choked. I couldn't see now, I let my eyes close. My head hurt… everything hurt. I felt something on my head, trickling, and I wondered if it was blood. I could smell it and it made me want to vomit. I felt my blouse getting torn open and more hands again. I tried one last time to fight back, and one of them started to punch me every time they saw skin.

Soon I stopped feeling.

Then I stopped breathing.

I welcomed the darkness, as long as the pain went away. But death didn't welcome me, since I was still conscious of what was happening.

"You'll have to find a new bride Royce!" I heard in the distance, my vision starting to blur.

I barely heard someone—who I assumed was Royce—say, "I'd have to learn some patience first!" Laughter, there it was.

Voices went in and out, and I only caught a few words after that. I felt them on me, in me, under me. I didn't want to, but they were there. I felt exposed, cold, and I cried. I didn't stop, didn't try to stop. I tried counting the seconds that went by, but lost count along the way.

**

* * *

**

Eventually, the hands went away. Pain was still evident, but I was glad they were gone. I could feel the cold wind though. I felt naked. I was shivering. I started to cry again. I couldn't open my eyes, I didn't want to open my eyes, didn't bother opening my eyes.

It hurt everywhere and I couldn't move. I felt broken, and it was more than just my bones. I could move my fingers and I was still on the ground. I tried to breathe, but couldn't. Air wouldn't come in and I knew at one point I stopped breathing altogether.

I didn't know how long I laid there, waiting for the darkness to take over, but it never did. I was supposed to die, that's what they left me for, but then why wasn't I? I couldn't move anymore. I knew soon the pain would be gone though, I knew it would be over soon.

I couldn't think. I felt black seeping into my vision. It would all be over, soon enough. Just when I felt myself fading away, drifting to another place, I heard footsteps. I couldn't react though, I couldn't do anything. I wanted to be gone even faster, so I wouldn't feel it happen again. Why was it taking so long?

I knew he was back for more.

And I didn't remember if it was my own distraught voice coming from my mouth, or just broken words echoing in my head, but I remembered hearing a voice sounding all too like mine say, "Please, just kill me now."

It was unbearably cold. He was so beautiful.


	11. Part Two: Cullen

**CHAPTER TEN**

"Please don't," I managed to say once I felt someone coming close. They didn't say anything and I started to sob, but that only made everything hurt so much more.

"Shhh," a soft voice whispered and at that moment I knew it wasn't Royce.

I started to cry harder—out of relief or fright, I didn't really know. I thought he had left me at one point, but then I realized I couldn't even feel anything anymore.

But I did feel myself drift. I couldn't hear, see, say, or touch anything, but I could feel. And I wondered if I was dying. I wondered if my senses were slowly fading until nothing was left.

The moon, the coldness, the pain, the blood—all the images splayed throughout my mind. Being pushed, and being caught. Waiting for death to take me. Waiting in the darkness, never to rest. Then everything began to return.

His voice, the pain, the breeze, and the rescue. At least, I hoped it was a rescue. And then everything came back to me, even Royce.

"Please stop," I managed to choke out, and I felt the breeze subside. This man couldn't be Royce. Royce wouldn't have listened.

I knew he had said something because I could feel his chest move—my head must have been on it. But I didn't really hear him. I didn't know what he wanted. I just wanted the pain to go away.

Maybe he was an angel. I could dream, couldn't I?

I let the angel take me to wherever he wanted to take me. I was done for and I was finished. Soon enough, I couldn't feel, and I knew death was coming closer. I welcomed it for all that I could.

But the reverie only lasted a short while. There was light and it was warm and I felt myself slipping away and the pain begin to dull. That was the closest to heaven I reached because then I felt pain. I felt as if something sharp was cutting me—everywhere, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. The clarity of it all almost killed me. The pain, the aching, was Royce back? I screamed and felt as if I was on fire, as if Royce wanted to kill me once and for all. And I took it.

I begged for him to kill me. I was shouting, telling Royce to please, please kill me now.

Maybe I was in Hell, or going through it. I've done a lot of bad things in my life. I tried to think of them all—for reason, and for trying to keep my sanity. I didn't think the thoughts running through my head at that point were helping either case.

There was one time when I was seven that I pushed Nate onto the dirt for putting mud in my hair. He cried and I laughed at him.

Then there was the time when I told mother that Tom ate the last cookie when I did.

When I was thirteen, I manipulated father to let me stay out late with a boy I met from the farm outside of Rochester.

At sixteen, I refused to marry said boy because I still wanted to flirt, causing my parents—mainly my mother—to be furious with me.

Then, at seventeen, when I had rejected Royce for the first time.

I let him sell (illegal) liquor.

I was disobedient fiancée and caused him to be angry at me.

I resisted him.

I got hurt my him.

I cried.

I never tried to speak up to him.

I hid secrets from my family—especially my brother's.

Vera was my best friend and I became spiteful of her because of everything I had. I knew I wasn't happy.

I didn't tell her what was happening with Royce.

I made myself go back home instead of to Royce's, letting him and his friends find me.

I let them steal me.

I let them leave me for dead.

I deserved it all.

I started to scream and cry and scream and cry. I didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt like forever. Everything hurt, on the inside and outside. Pain meant you weren't dead, and I felt it.

I felt alone. My senses were gone. I didn't see what was happening around me. I couldn't. I was glad. I didn't know how long it lasted, but after a period of time I heard other voices. I couldn't distinguish them, but I knew they were there. The first things that came to mind was Royce and his friends and I started to cry.

Once I could hear and feel again, I started to see. My vision was blurred, but I could see. And I still hurt. It wasn't just physical pain anymore. There was silence from the people before me, and I felt as if I were dying on the inside. Everything hurt.

"I'm sorry," I heard someone say, and felt someone holding my hand. The words 'I'm sorry' couldn't make up for anything, no pain or loss, not really. It was a phrase used by perfect strangers in the time of mourning. Maybe I was dying and he tried to save my life. Maybe it was Royce and he regretted what he had done. Too late.

"I'm sorry, so, so sorry," I kept hearing.

And then I felt the pain begin to lessen. He had done it. He had done a good thing. A good thing, because soon enough, nothing hurt.

**

* * *

**

It was a beautiful thing, darkness. Everything was at peace and nothing hurt. Nothing could touch me, nothing could harm me. I think that very moment was the most peaceful—most happy—I had ever been.

But being conscious of the darkness, and being able to think, I found myself once more in a depressive state of mind. And I knew I wasn't dead, I knew I wasn't gone.

I saw black, but heard them—angels? No, because by the sound of it, they were angry.

"What were you thinking, Carlisle? Rosalie Hale?" I instantly perked up at the sound of my name, but I didn't feel myself move—I couldn't move. Who was Carlisle?

"I couldn't just let her die. It was too much—too horrible, too much waste," I heard what I assumed Carlisle say. He sounded hurt, like every word out of his mouth killed him. What did he mean he couldn't let me die? Was he the one that found me? Was I alive? "It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her."

"Of course you couldn't," another voice said—it was female.

"I was wandering the city and could pick up her scent from miles away. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw her… If you had seen her the way she was—only a heartless person could have left her to die." My insides began to hurt again. Every second of what happened started to replay in my mind, no matter how much I wanted to forget about them. He had seen me. He probably thought I was revolting—that must have been why their voices were so far away, it was because they didn't want to be near me.

"Last I checked is that we _are_ heartless," a voice I swore I knew started, "people die all the time—"

"She didn't deserve to die, not at the hands of her—of her…"

"Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The King's will have to put up a huge search—not that anyone suspects the fiend," the young one said more forcefully, more angrily.

But after mentioning Royce every memory I thought I would have forgotten when I died came flooding back. I couldn't hear any more, no matter how pleased I was that at least they knew what Royce had done, even if they didn't want me around.

I groaned from where I was lying and sat up, my eyes still shut. I was able to sit up easier than I thought, because all the pain I had felt—how long was I gone?—had almost completely vanished. There was still pain somewhere inside, but there was no pain from the places I had bled from. I knew emotionally, I was unstable.

When I opened my eyes, slowly, there was light. I knew I was in a bright room, and I felt warm.

Then I felt someone close beside me.

I was looking down, so when I was finally able to see, I warily shifted my eyes and saw someone's hand reaching for my arm. Instantly, I pulled back harder than I intended, because I felt myself falling to the floor.

I waited to hit the ground, but someone had caught me—different hands. They tilted me back to my sitting position, and I finally looked up.

He was blonde and I knew I had seen him before. His eyes were light, a topaz colour, and full of concern. It took me by surprise.

He noticed me staring so he said, in the most gentle voice I had ever heard of anyone say, "I'm sorry." How many times had he said that? What was he sorry for?

I continued to stare at him, perplexed, then began to look around the room. There was a woman to the other side of me, the one who had probably caught me before I fell. Was she there the entire time? She had dark hair and soft features, with the same colour eyes and the same concern within them.

"What are you sorry for?" I questioned the blonde man, and pulled back, surprised at my own voice. Before he could answer, I started again, "what happened? Who are you?"

I put my feet down on the floor and stood up. I came up easily—easier than I thought I would—and looked down at my body. I was wearing clothes I had never seen before and there were no scars or cuts or bruises on my arms. My skin was porcelain and clear, like everything that had happened with Royce had been a nightmare, buy I knew it wasn't. Just thinking about it made it all real.

I knew the man could read the emotion on my face, for he told me, "I'll explain everything to you, Rosalie—"

"How do you know who I am?" I said back to him, suddenly defensive. Who were these people? Did they know Royce? Of course they did, they were just talking about them.

"I'll explain—"

"Well then explain!" I shouted to him, still not recognizing my own voice. What I thought would sound rough and hoarse, came out delicate and full of edge.

"I found you on the street, after what happened."

That was all he said, all he had to say, because immediately recognition dawned on me. "You're that doctor, aren't you?" He nodded his head and I waited for him to continue.

"I brought you to my home, to help you. You were so close to death, and you didn't deserve to die," his voice got quieter, as if he were ashamed, and I didn't understand why.

I tried taking everything in and looked back at him. He was tense, but his eyes were calm. His voice was strong yet soft. "So you… saved me. You… fixed me up?"

He nodded.

"Um… thank you, I, uh—yeah, thanks," I stumbled, confused at his insecurity of the situation.

"Except, there's more to it, Rosalie."

I furrowed my brows and stared at him, "What do you mean?" I asked, wary.

He looked behind me and stared at the woman with brown hair. I turned to her and she gave him a soft smile, nodding. I looked back at him and he was staring at the floor.

"What is it?" I expelled harshly, impatient at their hesitance.

"Rosalie, when I found you, you were close to death—too close. You were barely alive. And when I brought you to my home, you were almost gone. To any other doctor in New York, you had no chance of survival." He took a deep breath and I continued to listen. He continued to stare. "I could have let you die, or… I had a choice of letting you live. But letting you live wasn't just putting bandages on your wounds and nursing you to health. It was a much different process."

"I don't understand…"

"I had two choices: let you die as a human, or let you live, but not as a human. Have you ever heard of vampires, Rosalie?"

I nodded, not fully convinced. He continued to just look me in the eyes, and I began to understand what he was saying. I began to shake my head and started to laugh. "No. What are you talking about? What did you do to me?"

"I let you live, but as a vampire."

I exploded right there. "Are you insane?" I began to yell, "what did you do to me? How did you let me live? Why did you let me live? What do you want from me?"

Wordlessly, he turned away and pointed to a mirror from across the room. I walked over to it, not taking my eyes off of him. When I looked at my reflection, I flinched.

I still looked the same, blond and beautiful, but there were slight changes that made a huge impact on my appearance. My skin was paler and my eyes were a fiery red colour, unlike the man and woman's. Despite the different hair and bone structure, we were similar when it came to our skin.

I turned back to the man and walked straight up to him, staring right in his eyes, "What did you do to me?" My voice cracked as I said the words.

"You're a vampire. It was the only way I could let you live."

I survived. I survived Royce's attack, but I didn't even know if I wanted to. Not as… this.

"This can't possibly be real," I said, mostly to myself. I looked down at my hands before looking back at the man and woman. "And who are you?"

"I'm Carlisle, and this is my wife, Esme."

"There was another one, I heard another voice."

The woman, Esme, spoke, "That was our son. He's gone out right now, but you'll get to meet him," she said kindly—too kindly. I didn't know if I wanted to meet him. I didn't know if I wanted to stay. I wanted to go home.

I remembered hearing about vampires in books and on the radio, but that was it. I never gave it much thought, never bothered to. I remembered when Tom read Dracula. He told me that vampires didn't go out in the sunlight, slept in caskets, and transformed into bats. They were terrible creatures, but Tom had been fascinated in them.

"I know it's hard for you to believe, but it's true. It was the only way you could have survived—"

There he went again, talking about survival. He had no idea what happened to me, he just found me on the street.

"Why did you let me live?" I asked him, looking him right in the eyes. I couldn't handle it, everything was coming at me from all angles.

"I couldn't let you die—"

"Who says I didn't want to?" My voice was breaking. He noticed, but he didn't say anything about it.

We were both quiet after that, whether it was because he didn't know what to say or didn't want to say anything, I didn't know. It wasn't until Esme interjected and said, "Rosalie, if you have any questions about this, Carlisle and I would be glad to answer them."

It was kind of ironic how she said she'd be _glad _to answer any questions I had. It was if she were happy that I was like this and that she actually wanted to help me. _They_ wanted to help _me_. I scoffed and turned away.

I knew a lot about vampires from Tom alone, but I didn't know how much of it was actually true. But there was one thing about vampires I needed to know. Something seemingly small, but significant.

"When do I die?" I asked no one in particular, staring at a table across the room.

They didn't say anything for a moment, but then Carlisle stepped close to me and said, "You don't."

And I didn't know if I wanted to live that way.

I began to laugh, trying to take everything in, but everything kept itself at bay. "You've got to be kidding me, right? Are you both twisted? Vampires, _really_? Of all the things you could have told me, you tell me I'm a _vampire_? Are you both insane?" I started to yell. I saw Esme get closer to Carlisle, both of them watching me.

"Rosalie—"

"Stop saying my name! Stop pretending you know me! Stop pretending like you actually wanted me to live! I heard you! I heard you talk about me! Stop pretending like you thought _I_ wanted to survive! Just… stop it!" I bellowed, and I saw them both flinch. I didn't care. I felt burned out and stared at the ceiling, trying to breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale… it wasn't helping. I felt like crying, but no tears came out.

I was a vampire. I was going to live forever. I was going to be seventeen forever. No—eighteen. It was my birthday… what day was it today? I died on my birthday.

I died on my birthday. I was going to be eighteen forever. I was going to live forever. I was a vampire.

I looked back up at both of them. They still looked calm and concerned—it never stopped. Couldn't they feel anything else? I was getting sick of them already.

"I'm going home. I can't stay here with you." I turned and tried to find the front door, but Carlisle stopped me. He didn't touch me—didn't try to—he stepped in front of me, faster than I could blink.

His eyes were laced with uneasiness, "You can't. You're a newborn vampire, Rosalie. You wouldn't be able to control yourself and your bloodlust around humans—you'd kill them all."

"You're still going on about vampires? Who are you trying to fool?" I was pale because I hadn't eaten in days. That was the only explanation.

But then there were my eyes.

"I know it seems impossible, but it's all true. If you go out there, you could kill the entire town of Rochester. You could kill your family. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself. Right now you need to stay here, away from humans, until you can control your bloodlust," Carlisle told me, ever so gently. If he had one flaw, it would probably be that he was too nice.

I didn't want to believe him—the idea seemed so far-fetched, but I knew after what happened with Royce, I knew I was done for. I _felt_ death, and then I survived, completely unscathed. I knew Carlisle was a doctor and he even said he couldn't have helped me any other way, so why would he lie? He reverberated honesty, but maybe that was what made him a good liar.

Deep down, I knew the answer. I knew what happened, what I was, and who I had become. I just didn't know if I wanted it all to be real.

And if what he was telling me was true, then I couldn't go outside. If I _did_ lose control, I'd kill everyone. I'd kill my family. Did I want to risk his possible lies and hurt everyone around me? I was lost and confused, but mostly lost.

I needed answers.

I turned back to them and noticed Esme was still close by. They were both so quiet that it was as if they were ghosts. For all I knew they could have been, I mean, I was a vampire, wasn't I?

I bit my bottom lip and thought about everything that had happened.

"If… I can't be around humans, how do I survive? Vampires need blood, and they come from humans," I asked him.

"That's true, but the way my family works is we drink the blood of animals. It makes us feel more human. When we can control our bloodlust we like to live amongst humans. It's a very difficult thing to attain, however. Our son has just recently been able to be around humans."

My mouth suddenly felt dry, and my throat began to close. The thought of blood sent something through me and I saw, from the corner of my eye, Carlisle react.

"You're hungry," he said, suddenly at my side again. He moved so fast that it was like he had been beside me the entire time. I flinched. He was close, he was too close.

He wasn't offended though, or he just didn't show it. He beckoned for Esme, and she came close too. Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic. Carlisle backed up then, but Esme remained where she was.

"Rosalie, we're going to get you some blood. Edward should be getting back—Carlisle asked to bring a deer for you," she said so sweetly, smiling. It was like everything that was happening was normal to her. It was like she had that conversation everyday.

I was getting a deer? Edward was getting me a deer—

Edward.

I recognized that name.

As if everything was staged, I heard the door open behind me. I turned and behind me was the bronze haired boy who could pass off for a carpenter—rough and hard with calloused hands. Except this time, he was covered in blood, dried trails from the corner of his mouth. Besides the blood he looked just as i remembered him: suspenders and tousled hair and scathed shoes. His hands were bloody and there was something in his arms. It was a deer—the dead animal. There was barely any blood on it and I could smell it. I knew there was a lot of blood still inside the animal. How did I know that? It smelled so sweet and I didn't know why. Blood wasn't supposed to smell that way.

I tried to think of something else but couldn't. I looked back up at the man. It was Edward from Royce's house. It was Royce's friend, the one who was interested in the illegal liquor. He was one of Royce's friends. Royce's friends attacked me that night. He was one of Royce's friends. It was Edward from Royce's house.

As I looked into his eyes, they flickered from time to time and his mouth set into a thin line. His eyes went hard before filling with fretfulness. He called out for Carlisle, but that was the only thing he said before I went for him, the dead deer falling from his hands.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Before the animal fell from his hands I was already punching and kicking and screaming and shouting at him, blinded by rage. I got to him faster than I thought and hit him harder than I knew I could. He didn't resist, and I didn't know what to think of that. I tried not to think as I kept attempting to hurt him. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't react at all.

I didn't hear anything around me. Edward didn't do anything, and I couldn't see or hear or feel Carlisle or Esme around me. It was if they were frozen in time. They didn't try to hold me back or tell me to stop. They let me take my anger out on Edward.

I wasn't hurting him. It was as if they knew just that and were mocking me by just standing there. They knew I couldn't hurt. I was shouting anything I could think of at him, but soon I ran out of things to say so I started saying anything that came to mind. Soon I stopped making sense, but I never did tire of the blows I sent to his chest and arms and legs.

When I ran out of things to say and when my mind ran dry on what I could tell him, I started to repeat myself. I kept telling him what a horrible, horrible person he was, and soon I started to cry. The tears didn't come, but inside it hurt. I fell to the floor with my fingers curled, bringing Edward with me. My eyes were shut and my lips were pulled back.

I told him I hated him. I just kept saying it. I couldn't stop. My head wouldn't let me. I was fighting the man who knew the man that fought me. I wasn't strong enough though, I didn't put up a fight like I could have. Edward simply knew the man who almost killed me, and I wondered if I was glad the almost was there.

Not long after that thought did I realize I was sitting next to the man who knew Royce. I hated, hated, hated him for letting Royce did what he did, for knowing him, for breathing the same air as him—I hated him. He probably knew Royce hurt me and did nothing about it.

I kept hitting him, my arms never stopping. "I hate you…" I kept saying, and never once did the words seem redundant to me. He just sat there, taking every blow. I didn't know his reaction because I wasn't looking at his face—didn't want to look at his face and see Royce in them.

But the second I thought of Royce and what he had done to me, everything turned dark again. There was no more light and it was as if that day started all over again. Soon I stopped moving and became quiet, and when I opened my eyes I saw that Edward was staring right at me.

He didn't look concerned like Carlisle and Esme—pretending to know what I went through, he looked speechless. His eyes were dull yet held so much fire inside of them. His jaw was tight and his fists were clenched. He looked like he was about to hit something.

And I was scared.

Quickly, I scrambled to my feet and his eyes stayed on mine. I couldn't tear my eyes off of him as I stumbled backwards, hitting the wall along the way. I felt it, pushing my hand against it so I wouldn't fall over. He got up from the floor and kept his eyes trained on mine, and I pushed further along the wall. My hand went through it and it didn't hurt. I didn't think about it much though, because I was busy trying to get away.

"Rosalie…" I heard him whisper, his voice strangled.

My shoulders began to shake and suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore. The thought of drinking blood wasn't appealing.

Edward's eyes were sharp and dark and he was snarling. I noticed he didn't have any fangs, but by the threatening look on his face alone, vampires seemed all too real.

"Stay away from me, please stay away from me… Carlisle! Esme!" I began to yell frantically, walking backwards with no idea where I was headed.

What I didn't know was that Carlisle was behind me, guiding me backwards the entire time. I turned my eyes from Edward to look at Carlisle, hesitant on what he might do once I took my eyes off of him. Carlisle was staring intently at his son, as if speaking to him through his thoughts.

"You don't… Carlisle, you don't understand what he did…" he said, his voice strained, and I wondered what he was talking about.

I looked back at him and he looked uneasy. He was looking on the floor, staring at his hands and said, quietly, "I'm sorry. I won't hurt you, Rose."

_Rose_.

He looked back up to me and all I could see was Royce in him. As I stared at him he suddenly looked alert and worried as his emotions flickered from one extreme to the other.

"Stop it! Stay away from me," I yelled at him. Carlisle was holding my arms and I felt trapped. Everything came rushing back.

I shook Carlisle off of me, pushing him when he got too close. He landed on the wall, making a dent on it. I turned and began to look for an exit, but the only way out was through the front door, and Edward was there. I couldn't get near him.

I managed to get inside one of the closets and shut the door behind me. I pressed my back against it and began to sob, but no tears came out. I wondered why. Anything to take my mind off the world. I put my hands over my mouth and shut my eyes tightly.

I didn't know or care how long I was there. I needed an escape. There was no one here. I needed someone, but not just anymore.

"Rosalie?" I barely heard, and I knew that voice belonged to Esme. I was lost in my own head and all that brought me back was someone calling my name.

I didn't answer. She apparently didn't need one.

"Rosalie, it's Esme. Everything's alright, we won't hurt you. You have to come out, I know you're hungry. Why don't we just talk about it, okay?"

"No," I breathed out, barely hearing myself. I put my hands in my hair and lay my head on my knees. I wasn't hungry. I didn't need _blood_.

I heard her settle on the other side of the door, and I heard her rest her back against it too. She was quiet, and I wondered how I was able to pick up her slightest movements. She started to hum a song and I tried to block it out. I couldn't.

"I know Edward, Rosalie. He's my son, and of all the years I have known him, he wouldn't hurt anyone. And Carlisle… he's a good man, and he wouldn't hurt anyone either. He changed us all—he has a heart. You've just got to trust him like I have," Esme said softly, and I could hear her finger trace patterns on the floor. My head hurt. My heart felt still. And I was tired, just… tired.

Then she kept talking of Carlisle—her husband. The way she described him—she was alive through her words. She loved him dearly, I could tell, and by the way she described him I fell in love with him too. But I knew it was all just a lie, that's all it ever was. Once they pulled you in, every little nice thing about them faded away until you got someone like Royce. But when Esme talked of him it all seemed impossible, and I realized that she had all I ever wanted.

"Please go away," I choked out as if I were drowning underwater. I didn't say anything else and I heard her get up and leave. I could hear her in the other room faintly, talking to Edward and Carlisle. I didn't know what they were doing. I could smell the deer. Everything hurt.

I didn't realize Edward and Carlisle were talking because Esme was speaking to me the entire time. But I did hear her suddenly talking with them.

"What did you hear, Edward?" I heard Esme ask. Her voice was so soft that I almost didn't make the words. She sounded worried and a little bit upset.

"She doesn't… she doesn't like… I think she's jealous… I don't know why… It's hard to get in her…" I barely managed to make out the words as they were whispering as quietly as they good. Soon I only heard Edward's voice, answering questions as if he were talking to himself. Carlisle and Esme were so still that I thought they had left the room. For all I knew the could have, and Edward could have just been talking on the phone.

"She doesn't… believe it… she's starting to… after attacking me… how strong she was…"

I listened carefully and realized the only person he could have been talking about was me. I tried to ignore him and think about other things, but after I had tried to drift away, I heard him voicing what was just in my head. He talked briefly of Royce and quickly cut himself off once I began to hurt again.

I concentrated on listening and soon started to think of trivial things and what I thought about vampires and started to ask myself questions about them. I didn't want to remember anything else. If I could forget it all I would, but I couldn't and it killed me.

"She's thinking about something else now, she wants me to get out," he said, and soon there was silence.

If vampires were real… then I didn't know what to believe in any more, even if it was something as nearly impossible as what Edward could do.

I opened the closet and stepped into the same room they were in. I stayed a good distance away from all and Esme came to me, but Carlisle held her back.

"How did you know?" I said, staring at Edward. It took everything in me to not run away when he looked at me. He didn't answer, just stared, and I was getting angry.

"How did you know?" I repeated, my voice getting louder.

Edward involuntarily flinched and I almost smiled, but as quickly as that thought came it vanished—I didn't want to know what he was capable of. "Vampires can't read minds," I said a matter-of-factly.

Awe hit Edward's eyes and he took a step forward, but I took a step back at the same time. Knowing I what I would do he stopped.

He nodded. "I can," he said simply.

"How?" I breathed out, my hands starting to shake. I was nervous. I took another step back. He didn't move. Carlisle and Esme were watching him carefully, Carlisle's hand running up and down Esme's arm. She leaned into him. I turned away.

Edward wrung his hands together and said very calmly, "I've always listened to what anyone had to say and when I died—and Carlisle changed me—that must have stuck. Being a vampire takes a person strength and strengthens it further. I listened, and soon, I realized I could read minds."

"So first I'm a vampire and now you read minds?" I asked mostly to myself in disbelief. "What a great day it's been!" I probably looked crazy, frazzled as I felt myself losing my mind. I raked my hands through my blond hair and closed my eyes. When I opened them they were all staring at me. "What?!" I yelled at them.

I heard them all take a couple of steps towards me. "Stop following me! … Please."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Rosalie, we just wanted to give you some time to think after what happened," Edward said to me, his voice all too gentle and all too soothing, except I didn't believe his act.

I glared at him. "Stop pretending to understand things you don't understand! And don't tell me you wanted to give me some time to think! Friends of Royce aren't considerate!" I yelled at him, laughing at the last part. It was still a touchy subject and it hurt me to even bare his name from my lips.

"Royce and I weren't friends. I knew he was a dangerous man so I steered clear from him."

I looked at the floor, staring up at him from under my lashes. "Do you care about me? Did you want me to be safe? Is that why Carlisle changed me?"

Carlisle opened his mouth as if to answer, but I said, "Answer me, Edward." I looked up at him and saw through my peripheral vision that both Carlisle and Esme were watching him intently.

"Of course," he said without hesitation. He looked confused at my question.

I began to laugh in disbelief. "So… you can read minds and you knew Royce was dangerous, yet you tell me you care about me"—I shook my head at him—"it doesn't make sense. If you can read minds and if you _care_ about me like you say you do"—I felt like I was about to cry—"why didn't you do anything! Why did you let him hurt me? Why did you let him nearly kill me? Did you want me to be this way—one of… one of you freaks?" I shouted at him and he came closer to me. "Don't get near me. Don't… just don't," I seethed, anger replacing fright, but fright slowly creeping back.

Carlisle came close to Edward and stared at him, no doubt telling him things in his head. He didn't want me to hear what he had to say, probably. Edward left the room shortly after, giving me one last look. I glared at him. Carlisle turned to Esme and nodded. She came forward, her eyes on mine.

"Rosalie, are you hungry?" she asked me and right when I looked at her I thought of Vera. They didn't look the same physically, but her demeanour replicated my old friend. Every time a situation got bad she still looked at the bright side of things, and often brought people with her. Even when I pushed her away she came back.

I was dazed that when I looked back up I noticed Carlisle was gone. She noticed I was looking too, and said, "They went hunting. I could show you sometime instead of letting someone get food for you. It relieves a lot of… emotions. The deer is still by the door, if you want it." She smiled at me and without even noticing, her hand was on my back and she was leading me to the entrance of the house.

I couldn't take it. She was nice, she was too nice. There whole family was _nice_. They were nice and kind and caring and empathetic and everything I never knew.

I agreed and we ended up at the front of the house where the deer was lying. It was still and there was some blood coming out of it. It looked absolutely revolting, but smelled… _good_.

"It looks…"

"Yes, it does, but the taste makes up for it. Go ahead," she prompted and I bent down and touched it. I instantly pulled my finger back and looked disgusted at it.

I was sickened at the sight yet it smelled so sweet. A part of me didn't want to eat it, didn't want to give Esme the satisfaction of doing what she asked, but I was _hungry_.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to. We could get something else," Esme said and it almost killed me at how nice she was acting. It wasn't normal. I knew she was smiling soft-heartedly and I didn't know what to think of it.

"No, it's okay," I told her, letting her in and not even knowing why. There was something about her that made me lose all defences. Of the short time I got to know her she made sure I was okay and asked me how I felt about things. Was that part of being a vampire—suddenly becoming kind and considerate? Did people act the way she did? I had never really met someone like her who took in consideration what I thought.

Biting the bottom of my lip, I closed my eyes and pulled my hair back so it wouldn't get dirty. I sniffed it and I could almost taste the blood on my tongue. I didn't want to open my eyes and look at the deer so I kept them closed. I grasped the bottom of the deer and brought it up to my mouth, my fingers brushing the soft animal. I hesitated, almost content in just smelling the animal.

Too bad hunger won over. I opened my mouth and let my teeth graze the animals skin before biting down. My teeth sunk it sharply and I tasted the blood. Soon, I couldn't stop, and soon, it wasn't horrible.

I felt the liquid trickle down my chin as I lapped on the sweet, sweet blood. I didn't know how long it lasted, but even when the deer was drained I still felt hungry. I placed the deer back on the floor and breathed in and out, trying to calm my appetite.

"Are you still hungry?" she asked, kneeling beside me. I looked up at her as she regarded the animal. "You drained it all out." She laughed softly and stared back at me. "I could take you hunting, so whenever you're hungry you can just go get an animal and eat instead of someone getting it for you."

And I was hungry. Drinking the blood of that deer only made me more hungry. "Can we go now?" I asked her and almost expected her to say no even after she was the one who suggested we go hunting.

I didn't know what it was, but she was still treating me kindly after how contemptibly I was towards her. It was like it all just vanished. I was wary of her but let her talk to me. She was making an effort, I noticed, to try and get to know_ me_. It was strange, but also nice. I liked it, even though I was still guarded around her. She knew, I knew. I knew Edward or Carlisle had some influence over her, but she was _trying_.

Esme guided me out the door and followed behind me. There wasn't another house for miles. The house was on flat land and there was no forest in sight. Where would get an animal?

"We're going to go to the Green Mountains," she said and when I looked at he quizzically she added, "…in Vermont."

"We're in Vermont?" I asked shockingly at how far I was from home. Vermont was a completely different state from New York. And I didn't know how far I was, but I knew it was far.

"Vampire run fast. Come on, I know you can follow me." She smiled, showing her teeth.

I ignored what she said and continued to ask questions. "When can I see my family again?" I really wanted to know. I stared at Esme and her smile didn't falter like I thought it would.

She didn't hesitate. "Whenever you're ready—whenever you're capable of being around humans. It's hard—even I can't last too long and I've been this way for over ten years, that's why I never went to town a lot. But I did go sometimes. We'll practice controlling your bloodlust after you had something to eat. How long it takes to control depends on the person, but I know you'll get it in no time," she said, never taking her eyes off of me, looking at me with such serenity that it almost hurt.

"If you live so far… why did they ever come to Rochester?" It didn't really add up as to why they would go all the way to New York when they were already living in Vermont, but nothing had been making sense lately.

"Carlisle worked close by, and Edward heard about your fiancé's liquor business—it was the first time he actually heard of someone doing something like that. He wanted to see it. Edward was never a friend of his and never thought much of him at all," she said, trying to defend Edward.

"And how did Carlisle find me?"

"He was doing a house call and left late," was all she said. That was all I needed.

Esme's eyes bright though her smile was small. "Well, that's enough of that. I'm getting hungry. Let's go hunting, I'll show you the way. We'll run, or else it would take as all day. And sicne you're a newborn, you can run faster than us average vampires." She laughed softly and regarded me with ease on her face. I found myself agreeing.

And I didn't know why I was letting Esme control me—telling me what I should do—and complying. If it had been Edward or even Carlisle I probably would have refused and slowly deteriorated alone. There was something about her. Maybe that's why Carlisle fell in love with her.

Love.

Before she turned and ran I asked her, "Does Carlisle love you? And do you love him?"

"Yes," she answered, not skipping a beat.

I sighed and tightened and enlightened my jaw. She seemed to know what I was thinking and thought for a moment if she could read minds too. Or was I that readable?

"Rosalie, there are other people in the world than just _him_—"

I started to get defensive again, the walls closing in after Esme managed to knock a few down. "And how many of them do you know that _are _vampires?" I asked a bit too harshly than intended, but I didn't take any of it back.

"The world is a strange place with many strange things. You will find someone, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we have all of eternity."

I didn't know if I believed her. I didn't know if all of eternity would be long enough.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

When Esme ran into the wild I hesitated before following, taking in the speed. And when I ran too I marvelled on how free I felt. I could spend all day running across the world and not get tired. I had no idea where Green Mountains was, I was just following her.

She looked back at me several times, making sure I was still there, the smile never leaving her face. Once when she looked I stared at her challengingly and she began to laugh. I picked up speed and swished past her before stopping, turning, and waiting for her.

Esme came shortly after, laughing, and said, "When you're a newborn you do everything better than the average vampire. Racing would be hardly fair. Come on, we're almost there." Not waiting for an answer she ran again and I followed closely behind.

Even as I ran I still took in the sights that sped by me. I always loved the outdoors—it was a beautiful thing before the Depression started. Vermont looked like New York: dead and dreary and gray and a little bit sentimental. I bet this place was beautiful before 1929.

I barely heard Esme as she told me animals were scarce and food supply was limited. She told me Edward had to travel far to find that deer for me alone. She also told me humans were an option of last resort, but knowing Carlisle, he'd die of starvation before feeding on a human. She told me he was the most human of them all.

We slowed down and were surrounded by a cluster of trees. There were no leaves on the branches—it was almost winter—and Esme said once it started to snow they would have to move down south to find animals to eat. I tried not to think about it too much.

She sniffed the air and exhaled with a smile on her face. "There's something close by, would you like to try, or would you like me to show you? It's not that hard."

I listened closely and could hear the ground pounding. I sniffed the air and smelled the blood—it smelled more fresh than the animal Edward had brought to the house.

"I want it," I barely was able to say, my senses starting to get out of control. If I ever wanted to hold back to prove Esme wrong and that I wasn't one of them, I couldn't. Resistance was hard, temptation was greater.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the air, trying to locate the animal. I didn't know what kind of animal it was, but I knew it smelled absolutely wonderful. I turned my head and opened my eyes, staring down the path of trees. The animal was nowhere to be seen, but I knew it was just ahead of where I was looking at.

I looked at Esme who was standing near and saw she was looking into the forest too, her piercing onyx eyes showing deep hunger. I looked back into the depth of the trees, a predatory grin coming to my face and a rush of fear of what I was doing and who I was becoming. I was paralyzed for a moment of the animal I was, but soon hunger took over and I couldn't stop.

I ran through the trees and practically threw myself on the animal, flinging it backwards a few. It was getting dark outside and my skin glowed by the moonlight and I could see it… I could feel it… the steady pulsing of the animals sensitive veins. The tantalizing blood that would flow from my hungry mouth to my chin. Being a proper woman had vanished.

My eyes were lusting and longing and I heard the animal groan, but I never withdrew my eyes away from the creature. I bared my teeth and plunged into the animal's skin, and despite how sweet, sweet, sweet it tasted, I felt sick. Just thinking about me draining brutally for the animal's neck, drinking the last bit of life force from it's body, drinking _blood_, made me go weak. But I couldn't stop, and soon my lips were stained crimson and a dried out creature was dead on the ground.

I looked at my hands, stained too, and they were whiter than the usual pale complexion I had after the transformation, my eyes hard and relentless with a lost dark look taking over me. And the world seemed to slow down as every human memory I had began to fade.

"I can't run anymore," I said when I felt Esme come near. I didn't mean it physically—I could probably run to the world's end in back—I mean I was… tired, sick, lonely. I couldn't run away from my problems like a human, I was trapped. I was trapped in this kind of lifestyle _forever_ and I couldn't run from it. Dying was impossible, and if an animal's blood could make my crazy, I could only imagine how a human's blood would make me react. Esme had been this way for over ten years and it was still hard for her. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to be this way.

I glared at the animal and fear starting to creep back up into my head. Fear turned into shock as I tilted my head forward, eyes of pure madness and rage meeting the floor, and I growled so deep and low in my throat that I felt it more than I heard it. I was still hungry and didn't want to be. I didn't want to kill another animal, didn't want to find one.

Fear, fear like ice piercing through my heart, and suddenly I had no control. I struggled, struggled against the temptation, but I stood and began to run again, slowly devouring another animal miles away from the last one.

My blonde hair was all over my face, draped across my forehead. I was in so much distress that I couldn't even think straight. I bet my eyes were blank; no iris, no pupil, nothing.

And I was still hungry. I didn't know how much animals I ate—I lost count, but when I felt satisfied—or too ashamed to continue—I stood up, shaking slowly, my feet crunching relentlessly against the leaves underneath me. I bit my lower lip to prevent myself from lashing out and something, anything, and just thinking about animals and blood made me tremble even more. My arms were shaking and I held onto a tree tightly, and even though I was grasping the bark, my hands couldn't stop moving.

I heard Esme come close and saw her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, even though there was no blood. Years of practice must have made it easy for her to stay clean. "That was delicious," I heard her say.

My eyes darted down, not wanting to look at her. My breathing became a fog and all I could hear was my heavy breathing, the world disappearing around me. I didn't want to be this way, and I'd give it all just to be a human again. Esme's eyes were still pure black and I could only assume mine were the same.

I was terrified of what I had become. I could feel the darkness. It was pulsating off my body and my skin felt colder and I felt as though I needed air. My voice was caught in my throat and my heart—whatever was left of my heart—hurt and there was a hollow and painful feeling in it.

The fear and anger and every emotion swirling around me gave my feet wings and I ran, rain into trees, ran as I only could run in nightmares. I didn't know what Esme was doing and I didn't care. I turned and over my shoulder saw Esme watching me, her expression worried. Things flashed by me, scenery from a hundred different worlds and I knew somehow I was slipping between them, racing space and time itself to get away from the vampire behind her and the vampire in her.

I stopped in the middle of nowhere and when I turned to look over my shoulder, nothing was there. But when I turned back I saw Esme a few feet away from me. She came close and her eyes glowed—not black, but an intense topaz colour that mixed with gold. More fiercer, more savagely.

And no matter how dark and dangerous I felt, I couldn't help but feel scared. I was fearful of my life so I was running and heading nowhere. And it hurt me to know Esme would always follow, always watch out for me, no matter what I said or did. Why was she like that? People didn't do that, not the people I knew.

I considered Esme silently and I saw her for what she was, skin so pale it was almost glowing, body sinewy like that of a dancer, dark molten hair unkempt and wild from the chase, her very presence radiating a sort of frightening power yet warm and inviting at the same time.

"Rosalie," she breathed out, a whisper almost on the edge of a plea, "stop running, it's okay."

I shook my head. "_No_, it's not okay! Look at me, one moment I'm calm and the next I'm running away! I look like a crazy person!" I flinched at my own words, feeling more threatened by her gentleness. I was straining to breathe—to regain control of myself. Was it because I was scared?

"Rosalie, it's perfectly normal to feel this way—I was exactly the same after Carlisle had changed me. But he helped me get through it, and I want to help you."

I shook my head again at her and said, "You'll never understand what happened to me so just stop trying to." I was running, constantly running from the problems—my fears. It was an endless chase I had been doing since I was a human.

"I may never understand, but maybe I can help _you_ understand."

I looked onto the floor, awaiting the yelling, the leaving and the loneliness, but it never came because Esme was still there standing, watching, waiting. It felt… almost maternal. I looked right at her and asked, slightly scared and slightly daring, "Why are you so nice to me?" I didn't get it, I still didn't.

She looked a little confused and I saw the smile on her face falter. "Would you prefer if I wasn't?"

"Yes! People don't act like you do, or is it some vampire thing I haven't heard of… like, like… the mind reading?"

"I care for you Rosalie, and I'll probably never stop. Carlisle and Edward are the exact same way, they just think of me more… maternally."

That's what it was. Though, I didn't believe it.

"Mother's don't act like… like this. They don't act like you do. You're too… _nice_." It sounded stupid when I thought about it, but when it came out of my mouth it seemed like it made sense.

Esme then treaded on unstable water with what she said next. "What's your mother like?" She caught me by surprise with how blunt yet _caring_ she was.

"Not like you, not like… _nice_." Nice sounded foreign from my tongue. It was like I hadn't used the word for years and that might have even been true. I looked lost, my face, and I started to day dream. Before, when I was told to keep things to myself—that it was easier that way, it was _hard._ But given the chance to spill everything…I didn't think it was possible but it was even harder.

I began to close myself off and Esme didn't press for more. I almost wanted her to just so I could say no. Being so accepting of my decisions and not wanting to incorporate her own and dictate _mine_, that was different—somehow strange.

I looked back at her. "Didn't Carlisle or Edward tell you about them? I'm sure they would," I said bitterly, clearly referring to the latter.

"They respect other people's privacy—even Edward. You know, Rosalie, he didn't ask for the ability to read minds. He knows to not listen when he shouldn't be." I didn't say anything, she didn't stop. "The same thing goes for who we are. None of us asked for this, not Carlisle, Edward, or myself. But overtime we looked at this curse, and saw it as a blessing. Maybe one day, you'll see it that way too."

I hardly believed her.

She noticed.

"Edward and I were dying when he saved us. Not at the same time, of course. Edward was first, then myself. Edward was changed in 1901, and I was changed in 1921. I had already met Carlisle briefly ten years before, when I was sixteen. Even then, I hated what I had become, but he gave me the chance to start over. My life when I was human… it was hardly a life at all. So I saw it as a blessing—to start over."

My life when I was human was too, hardly a life at all. I looked at her and wondered if she knew what had happened to me. She didn't look like a liar. But with vampires, I didn't know what to expect.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to feel for any blood or dirt. It was clean.

"Do you… do you know what happened to me? Did Carlisle tell you?"

"Carlisle doesn't like to talk about other people, he's a doctor and likes to keep things in confidentiality. Except, you weren't one of those patients he could give _normal_ treatment to. All he told me was that he found you on the street."

"What about Edward?"

"He had hunches. The one time he met… Royce,"—I flinched—"he says the only thing… _he_ thought about was the liquor and the money, but he did let thoughts of you slip. It was nothing major, though. When he saw you being brought in by Carlisle… he was able to put the pieces together of who could have done the damage because it was too severe to be accidental. He never knew what _he_ could do, until he was able to figure it out for himself. Before you woke up, it was like he _knew_ what had happened. Edward is very protective of people, and he never liked _him_ to begin with."

"So you all know what happened," I said without question.

"Edward left the room, for the most part. He didn't want to unintentionally invade in anything. He was there before you had woken up though. Your mind was screaming—he wouldn't have been able to get through if he tried. He was just able to assume things. He told us, yes, but none of us know if it's true what he suspects, and none of us know the whole story besides yourself. We won't pressure you to tell us, and Edward has been staying away from your head."

I would have liked to believe that, I really, really did—but I couldn't. I didn't know these people, I didn't know what they were capable of. I wasn't going to warm up to Edward or Carlisle, even if he did "save" me. I didn't know where I stood with Esme, though.

I took in a deep breath and stared at my hands. The warm wind blew softly, my blond hair floating in the air.

"How can you trust Edward? How can you trust that he's not just lying to you and telling you what you want to hear?" I had too many experiences with that.

"He's my son."

"That's it?" I asked in disbelief, shaking my head. That couldn't be it.

"I have no reason not to trust him." There she went, looking on the bright side of things. I had no reason to trust _anyone_. Esme worked backwards. "Rosalie, I'll probably never understand what you had to go through—"

"You're right, you won't!" Everything was building up in me, the pressure was astounding, and I just burst. All the niceness, the trust… everything about Esme was the antithesis of me. I envied it. I hated it. I envied it.

She was the kind of person people like Vera's husband married. The nice, good girl with no problems, no family problems, no trust issues. No overbearing mother, tagalong father, deadbeat life with a no control of what they wanted. Esme and Vera went for the things they wanted—they were fearless. Even with the Depression, they forgot about social status and social climbing. They risked everything for a lifetime of happiness. Vera had a husband and a son… and Esme did too.

She had a _son_.

I had nothing. I didn't risk anything, didn't fight for anything.

She had a son.

"You will _never_ understand. _You_ are nothing like me, we have _nothing_ in common. We're strangers. We've only known each other for what, a day?"

"Rosalie—"

"Stop using my name, stop pretending you know me, because you don't. I want to go home."

"Okay, we'll go back to Carlisle—"

"_No_, I want to go _home_."

I had to let it all go. I kept switching from calm and collected to crazy and uncontrollable. And I finally knew what was eating me up—it was the control. The control from everyone around me made me like this. It made me afraid, untrusting, _crazy_. I needed the release so maybe then I could finally be _normal_, or as normal as a vampire could be.

I ignored whatever she was saying to me and started running with no I idea where I was going but knowing where I wanted to go. I didn't bother to check to see if Esme was behind me or if she had left. If she did the latter, I wouldn't be surprised. You couldn't trust people these days.

I never did get tired, but I got lost. I stopped in the middle of the forest, looking around. All I see were more expanses of trees. I heard a twig snap behind me. I whirled my head and saw Esme.

"What?" I snarled.

"Rochester… you have to go that way," she said calmly as if she didn't run all that way with me. "I'll show you the way."

"Why? I thought you said until I was ready."

"You want this, so you are ready."

And I let her. I didn't know what possessed me to let her help me, to let her in—or partly in, but I did. We didn't speak at all our entire run, which only lasted a couple of minutes. We got their quickly, on the edge of Rochester. I could smell the town—it had a distinct smell to it I knew.

It was night so we didn't have to hide much since it would be hard to be recognized in the dark. At that thought I grabbed onto Esme's arm, pulling her close. The night was dangerous and lonely and I couldn't do it alone and I was glad I wasn't alone. Esme didn't say anything about it and I started to head to my house. I smelled a couple of humans and after the first sweet whiff I had to stop moving. I had to hold my breath the entire way—which I could—but it hardly helped. Esme was calmer than me, and soon she was pulling me to the direction of my house after I had pointed it to her. I was glad Rochester at least had a diminishing population.

_He_ lived pretty far from my home and didn't smell him along the way. He was probably in Syracuse, hiding. I sort of wished he was so he wasn't near me, so he couldn't be near me.

I was able to hear my mother before I even saw the house. She was talking to someone quite animatedly yet sadly. I wondered if she was sad. I stood a good distance away from my house, away from the town since we lived right to the edge of it, and listened. Esme was looking at me worriedly and pointedly, but I chose to ignore it.

"—all miss her so much. Royce said she was angry at something and just ran off! He put up a search for her—what a caring husband. Yes, he was only her fiancé, but he would've made a lovely husband…"

Mother was so oblivious to what he was.

"—she always runs off whenever there's a problem! She's done it since she was a child. She can't do things by herself, she was always afraid. Royce said he wanted a small wedding—how sweet of him, right? But Rosalie wanted a big one and cried and left town because she didn't get what she wanted. Royce—"

Hearing his name killed me. Hearing the lies made me clench my fists.

I couldn't smell the blood anymore.

"She always wanted more than she could have. She hurt Royce. Royce thinks he hurt her, but she did to him! She wasn't obedient and now he probably won't marry her! Now our family is going to suffer from this Depression because of her. We could have lived so well…"

I closed my eyes. I started to shake.

"—they're somewhere. My husband brought his sons…"

She was on the phone. All alone.

"Well then, goodbye. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going to try and talk to Royce to continue to look for her…"

Right when I heard her hang up the phone I tore myself from Esme's arms and ran into my house. I heard Esme behind me, and when I flung open the door she hid in front of the house.

I saw my mother turn around and when she saw me her eyes went wide. There was no smile on her face or glimmer in her eye. She was… passive. "Rosalie?" It was only my name she said sympathetically before she went on a tirade. "How could you run off? Why are you so selfish? Royce—the poor man—went looking for you saying—"

Royce, Royce, Royce, Royce, Royce…

"Stop it," I seethed. "How could you believe Royce, how could you think he loved me? How could you tell all those _lies_ about me?"

"What lies? They're all true, everything about you. I'll be surprised if Royce wants to marry you still after this stunt you pulled!"

I started to shake my head. "What stunt? _He_ made me this way. _He_ hurt me. But you probably don't want to hear the truth because it would tarnish your reputation because you don't want to be known as the mother of the girl who was _raped_ and left to _die_."

My mother gave out a gasp. I ignored it.

"I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be hurt by Royce, and I didn't ask to actually fall in love with him. I hate it, I hate that I actually started to like him, but I did, and I can't deny it. Before the attack, he was the perfect gentleman, he was everything I could ever want. I pitied Vera because I had something much more better than her husband.

"But you pushed me. You made me think I _needed_ Royce, not _wanted_ him. You made me depend on him. _You_ loved Royce and if you were twenty years younger and not married, you'd probably chase after him like a chicken yourself!

"Marrying Royce wasn't my dream anymore, it was yours. I fell out of love with him, but I did love him at one point. You made him think he was invincible. He started drinking. Oh, but wait, liquor is banned from America! No, Royce got some and started to sell it since the bank went out of business. And then her hurt me and almost killed me.

"When something was wrong you couldn't see it. You didn't want to believe your daughter, the one that would provide you with everything you could dream of, could not love Royce anymore. Money was what was the most important to you, and I paid for it. Tell Tommy and Nate goodbye, and that I love them."

I started to sob, albeit there were no tears, and breathed in deeply. Once I stopped speaking and once I started to breathe I could smell everything—it was controlling me.

I heard my mother scream at me and I knew I was hungry. My eyes, probably onyx, my mouth, baring teeth and ready to feast on blood… I was uncontrollable. I wasn't ready. I was going to kill anyone that came close.

My mother started to back away and I glared at her, my feet ready to pounce. I stalked forward, but before I could attack, I felt arms holding me back.

My mother continued to shriek, however, but I felt a hand on my face, pulling me back until we were out of the house. I didn't get a chance to recover because I felt like I was flying, and I knew someone was carrying me. Even in the distance, I could still smell it all. The blood sang to me and I wanted it and found myself pulling away, but the hands kept holding me down as they ran.

When we were far enough I found myself not hungry anymore. I let, who I guessed was Esme, carry me, and breathed out. I felt free… I felt weightless. I wanted to feel weightless, and I did.

"Esme, stop," I said. And like I knew, she did. She was still and I put my feet on the floor. My back was to her and I took a couple of breaths. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

I frowned at her comment, my vision getting blurry. I couldn't hate her, I never could. She didn't have any flaws—being too nice was hardly a flaw for her. I might not have been close with Carlisle of Edward and trust may never exist for me, but with Esme, it was starting too.

I turned around and she was staring at me, kindly. I walked over to her and put my arms around her neck, my face on her shoulder. I took deep breaths and soon I felt her arms around me. "Thank you," I breathed out. Thank you for everything.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"How much did you hear?" I asked as we headed back home—their home.

"Everything," she said, not hiding it.

"I hate _him_. I hate him so much."

"Don't let hate fuel you, Rosalie. It's in the past—don't let it take over it."

"Why are you so forgiving? You know what he did to me—I know you know… from Edward and now my mother and I've probably let it slip a couple of times… why are you pretending you don't know?"

"I do know a little bit of what happened, but you can't let you weigh you down. I'm not telling you to forget about it, I'm telling you that, you can't let everything rest on your shoulders. It wasn't your fault."

_It wasn't your fault._

"How do you know? Has this ever happened to _you_ that gives you the right to try and be so… _nice_?" I said the last part loudly, nice being the only word I could use to describe Esme, but it wasn't even insulting.

She didn't answer and I walked past her, heading back to their house. I stomped through the forest, and I didn't hear Esme at first, and I thought it was my imagination, but the words were clear and cut through the silent air.

"Yes."

I wasn't expecting that answer. I froze in place and turned back to her, trying to read her.

"I married the son of a family friend," she said simply. I turned my entire body so I was facing her, her face expressionless. It was if she were in another place.

"My family loved him and my mother pushed for me to marry him. She didn't want to have a daughter with no husband. So I did. His name was Charles. His public face was very different than his private face. But my parents told me to keep quiet, to just let him. And I did."

I kept eyeing her before coming closer. I walked forward to her. As I walked, she continued, "When he was drafted to fight in World War One, it was the biggest relief for me, but he came back in 1919. I didn't have enough courage to leave him, but then I found out I was pregnant. I always wanted a child, but not with a man who hurt me."

Her voice was lost, forlorn, and almost robotic. The words coming out of her mouth was felt emotionless.

"I ran away in 1920 to live with a second cousin in Milwaukee, and then moved further north when people found out who I was and where I was. I pretended to be a war widow to escape and taught a school in a small community outside of Ashland. I loved it there. In 1921 my child was born—a son"—her voice cracked—"but died of a lung infection shortly after. I had nothing left," she started to whisper everything else, but I didn't mind because I could still hear her as if she were right beside me. "I knew Carlisle before. I met him when I was sixteen after I had fallen off a tree. There was something about him, I remembered. I jumped off a cliff."

She stared at the ground for a long time before continuing. When her eyes went back on mine I could see through them. The colours swirled and she looked… different, better somehow. I couldn't distinguish what it was, but now I wanted to feel it too.

"Carlisle was working in Ashland. He remembered me. I was dying. He said I was different. Not physically, but I looked strained. He didn't want me to die, he told me. He told me, once I was awake, that I didn't deserve to and that it wasn't my time. He couldn't bear it, so he saved me.

"And when I opened my eyes, in all that pain, I recognized the face I'd never forgotten in the last ten years. I was relived. But it was hard, too. I couldn't trust him—I barely knew him. I thought he was like Charles, very different when no one was around. On top of that, I didn't adjust well. I wasn't really upset—shocked, yes, but I was still happy that I was away from Charles and with a better person—the man I dreamed about when I was sixteen for days."

She was smiling at me now, really. It was real, not forced. She looked at me with such glimmer I couldn't help but feel jealous. She was exactly like Vera.

Then, her smile slowly faded. Her eyes were still bright, but her mouth was partly open, trying to find the words.

"It was hard to trust him at first. I was more trusting of Edward. I don't know, the fact that he could read minds made he more gentle and careful. I'm sure Carlisle was frustrated at me, but he waited. And I fell in love with him all over again. It's been over ten years and I trust him with everything. He didn't want memories of Charles to weigh me down, and when time's at a standstill, memories fade fast. It hurts to think about it, but I have Carlisle. True love waits, Rosalie. It's something I've always believed in, and you might not agree with me, but someone will find you, as will you them."

She was smiling at me again, tight-lipped, but I knew she had never lost hope. I wished that were me. I really, really did. And I didn't know why I believed her. Had it been anyone else I probably would have scoffed, turned, and walked away.

I needed her. Not romantically, but maternally. Someone like her never existed in my life until now. She guided me without even knowing. And I'd never let her know, I couldn't have her know what she could make me do.

"I still miss so many things," she continued, "I always wanted children, and had a maternal ache. Since I'm the oldest physically, I kind of fell into a mothering role and accepted it. None of us wanted this, but Carlisle can't help himself sometimes—he hates the suffering. But we all found hope to continue on living."

What she said caught me by surprise. I whipped my head to look at her, my hair getting caught on my face. I brushed them away. "We can't have children?" I asked, honestly worried.

"No, but even immortality can't stop love from finding its way."

I didn't know how I felt about that. Children was one of the two things I wanted. Could I be met halfway? Esme saw the pained expression on my face and put her hand on my shoulder. I didn't—couldn't—brush her away. I looked around the forest, as if looking for a cure, and almost broke down.

"Let's go back, Rosalie," Esme said, trying to distract me. I let her.

I didn't say anything about her husband because frankly, there was nothing for me to say. I let it all sink in and thought about what she went through. My pain was quick, almost instant, and then immortality consumed me. Esme went through years of abuse, and managed to come out like… _that_. From an outsider's point of view she looked almost completely unscathed. Of course, what she could be going through on the inside could be unbearable—I didn't know. But I knew she had Carlisle and the way she lightened up as his name left her lips… I wanted that all. She almost made it seem possible.

When we got back to the house I knew Carlisle and Edward was here. I didn't like to be alone with them, much less Edward. I could tolerate him however, he would always pass by when Esme and I were alone, and I had learned to ignore him. He could probably be in the corner the entire time and I wouldn't care.

I learned quickly to manage what I thought in my head just in case. I was able to think what he wanted me to think—put up a front. I was good at that. Because my thoughts were like that, soon the words coming from my mouth were a front as well. They believed it, and soon I did too.

When we got to the house I heard Carlisle and Edward talking. Their voices were low and slightly frantic, but when they heard Esme and I come through all the emotion in there voice ceased.

Next we saw Edward come into the room, Carlisle behind, his thumb and pointer finger spread across his head, as if he had a headache. Well that was expected when it came to Edward.

Edward glared at me and all I did was stare at him. I didn't recoil—I wasn't scared of him. Well, only he needed to know that, and I let him believe what I thought.

He stared at Esme for a moment and before she could even say he said, rather loudly, "She went to Rochester? She could have killed someone!"

His voice was harsh and angry and taunting that I didn't say anything back like I probably would have. His voice reminded me of so much. Instead, I just stood there. I could do that, only that.

"But she didn't," Esme said calmly back, looking at Carlisle.

"I tried to—"

"She could have!" Edward interjected, yelling again.

Esme furrowed her brows and stared hard at Edward, and I saw him slightly relax. "But she didn't. She needed to go back, and she didn't kill anyone. What Rosalie is going through… right now she's trying to find herself, and I'm going to let her."

"Why?"

"She's like my daughter now."

And every memory of my mother came flashing through me. Every memory of the pushing and the disdain and her own infatuation with Royce, it all came back. And then Esme came into my life showing something my mother never did, and she accepted me as if I were hers. I didn't know how to react, I didn't know how to take it. Was it a ploy to take advantage of my vulnerability? I spent all my time here preventing it from showing so I wouldn't be able to feel anything, and if I couldn't feel it, I couldn't get hurt.

But simple words like that that probably had no other meaning to anyone else but me—it got to me. I couldn't let them see me like that, all weak and fearful. I needed to leave, get some air.

I was an emotional wreck on the inside and a cold frigid girl on the outside. I was my own puzzle and to others I was probably _crazy_. I kept crying and crying and crying on the inside and was another story on the outside.

Since I was behind Esme and well away from them, I quickly left the room and went out the front door. I wasn't as quiet as I thought I'd be, but then again, I wasn't even trying.

I put my hands on my head and walked in a circle outside of the house, trying to calm myself. I needed to get myself together if I was trying to let them believe I was okay. I needed to show them I was okay so they would stop that _act_ they did towards me, where they pretended they cared. If I showed them I was okay their true selves would show and it'd be easier for me to see them for who they were.

_I'm okay._

_I'm okay._

_I'm not okay_.

I heard the door open behind me and I knew it was Esme. I could smell her. I didn't turn to face her, only asked, "If no one here even wants me here… why was I saved?"

"Rosalie, it's not—"

I whipped my head around. There was no sobbing on tears, just anger and frustration. I didn't need to be helped. I was okay.

"You can defend me all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm not wanted here. All my mother cared about once she saw me was what Royce would think. She didn't ask me if I was okay once she saw me, clearly done for. I was missing for who-knows-how-long! And _they_"—I pointed back into the house—"don't ask the same thing. All you see is the negative things about me, and that's all I'm starting to see too."

I'd already let Esme see me weak and vulnerable and confused. I tried to stop it then and there by showing a different emotion, one that people couldn't take advantage of. I couldn't let Carlisle or Edward see me like that—too many people already knew what I was like when I was broken down. One was too many. Esme was the only one I could look too, the only one that was like a mother to me… but even I had a hard time trusting her despite everything she did for me.

When I heard someone's footsteps I immediately regained my composure and set my mouth in a hard line. Esme watched me—saw me fix myself up. Carlisle was staring at me, walking forward, and it took everything in me not to back away from him. He must have sensed my tenseness because he stopped almost immediately after I felt my muscles stiffen. I couldn't help it and I hated myself for it.

"What are you going to do, Carlisle? Reprimand me too?"

"No. Unlike Edward, I agree with Esme."

I didn't trust him at all.

"Rosalie, I honestly do not know what I could tell you to get you to trust me. And I know trust isn't made over a day. But you can't let it weigh you down."

He was saying what Esme had told me—they were so alike, Carlisle and Esme. Maybe that's why they grew to love each other. And I wanted to trust Carlisle, I really, really did, but I couldn't. It was tearing me up on the inside. I believed Esme when she said he was a good person, I just didn't know if I could believe myself.

I tried to not show him my fear or nervousness or distress. I kept a straight face and my brows were slightly furrowed and my jaw was locked. I may have looked fearless, bored, and collected, but inside I was a scattered mess.

I opened my mouth and willed my voice not to shake when I asked him, "Why did you save me? I just want to know why. People die everyday, so why did you choose to let me live?"

Carlisle didn't miss a beat. "You reminded me so much of Esme when I saw you. Not your hair or skin or clothes, but the look on your face. You were unconscious, but there was something that pulled me in. When I got there, you were barely conscious, but by the way… the way you… _looked_, it should have been impossible. There was so much blood and so much trauma, I could feel it all, and you should have been dead. I could've taken the dazed state, but what stopped me right there was when you started talking. There were pools of red and you shouldn't have even been alive.

"And even if you keep telling me you wanted to really die, I'm not going to believe you because even at that night, you didn't will yourself to die. You didn't want to die. And I couldn't let you."

I should have expected that. I should have expected that they'd take something of my own and use it against me, because that's what people did. When it came down to it, I didn't really know why I was still alive. If he wasn't lying and said I should have been dead, then why was I alive? I didn't want to live. Throughout the entire thing I couldn't wait for death to consume me.

I started to shake my head at him.

Carlisle then replied, as if he were Edward and could read my mind too, "The brain and the heart are two different things. Your mind might have been telling you to just leave the world, but sometimes your heart is the one that won't let you. And you can't hear your heart as clearly as your brain, but that must have been what willed you to stay alive until the very end."

I needed to collect my thoughts. I stared at the ground for a moment before looking back up, right at Carlisle, and saying, "It's just… so impossible."

Esme's hand came up to my back. "It gets easier over time, Rosalie."

I didn't know about that.

"What gets easier? The constant standstill, the hunting, the blood? What gets easier? I don't even know most of the things associated with a vampire, much less this kind of vampire."

"Esme didn't explain it to you?" Carlisle asked, suddenly anxious.

"It never came up, Carlisle," Esme answered, looking at him. "Maybe you should."

There was a double meaning to what she said, except I didn't know what. I didn't really care.

"Well, there isn't any set rules, just common sense that we always forget when our head takes over what our heart really wants."

I waited for him to continue, wondering. I needed to know everything, just in case I decided to leave them. It seemed like soon.

Esme moved to get up but I asked her to stay, quietly. I was sure Carlisle heard but he pretended not to notice. That was nice. I saw Edward walk by, silently, and I turned away from him. I didn't care about him right now, probably never, since it was clear he didn't like me.

"When you saw your family—"

"It was just my mother."

"When you saw your mother, it was something that surprised all of us, even Edward. Not by how wrong it was, because it wasn't wrong, but how you were able to control yourself. It was something though, at first, none of us wanted you to do because you could… _kill_ them and we didn't want that to happen. Of course, Esme also said that you almost lost control, but that's completely normal. I've spent hundreds of years trying to perfect it, so it's easier for me, but for Edward, and especially Esme, it's still a struggle. Actually, Esme, you were able to control yourself pretty well there." He smiled at her and Esme let out a small laugh, shrugging her shoulders.

"Could I see them again?"

"You could, but right now I would advise you not to. It was dangerous what you did, but I'm not going to reprimand you because it felt right to you, and it was. I can't take that from you. But I want you to get used to hunting on your own first, which Esme also says you're getting the hang of."

I pursed my lips, uneasy at the approval Esme showered me with.

I had to interject. "What happened to Royce… and John and… the rest of them? When you found me?"

"They're gone."

"What do you mean _gone_?"

He sighed. "They got away. Edward was trying to make leads to get them caught, but even he couldn't find them."

"But he's like… he's a vampire, how can he _not_ find them?" My voice was getting harsher, rougher around the edges.

"Edward doesn't have the best blood control, granted he can last longer than Esme. But if rage consumed him he wouldn't be able to stop. He has to be careful. He doesn't want to let them go unscathed, but he doesn't know where they went, and he barely knows _their_ scent, having only spent one night with them."

"So he's trying to find them to kill them, right? That's what vampires do, don't they?" I challenged, staring at him intently.

Carlisle shook his head, unaffected. "We are a different kind of vampire, the ones that don't feed on humans."

"That's ridiculous," I said under my breath.

"It may seem that way at first, but all of us wants to be as close to humanity as possible. I'm sure you do too."

I didn't say anything.

He changed subjects. "Edward was very curious to the liquor trade _he_ had. He went that one time you saw him—"

"But _he_ called Edward his friend."

"Anyone who gives him quick money is a friend to him, most likely. Anyway, Edward didn't pay much attention to you. He kept his thoughts with _him_ to see what he was thinking, and his mind was only about the money. Edward thinks the attack was a spur of the moment think because not once did it cross _his_ mind. And he never visited them again, so he doesn't know if it ever did come up again."

It was as if everything that could possibly go wrong was going wrong.

"What else? The garlic, crosses, sunlight, coffins, bats… what about all those?"

"They're not true. Almost everything from Dracula doesn't apply to us. In fact, it's just the bloodlust. We don't even have fangs." He smiled at me and his teeth were white and straight and completely… _human_.

"So we're not even vampires… we're just… _bloodsuckers_."

Carlisle let out a laugh, one completely honest, and I didn't understand. Not his reaction, but what to make of the situation. I chose to ignore it.

"We're strange creatures indeed, and it takes some time to get used to, but there are benefits, you will find."

I nodded my head, giving my own half smile and half not believing him all in jest. Esme was watching me and smiling and Carlisle was watching me. I knew they thought I was getting better, that I was adjusting, that I was not afraid.

There were still so many things I wanted to know, but didn't want to ask. Royce was still alive, and so were all his friends. I didn't like Edward and probably never would. Esme and I were close, and I think Carlisle was starting to get in too. That's the effect they had on me. I showed them I was okay, however, and they believed it, I knew. As long as I kept that front up, it'd be easier. I knew it would.

I still felt incomplete.

* * *

**a/n: **i took out the sparkling in the sun. one, because it's kind of ridiculous, and two, it's sunny all the damn time in the story and the cullen's don't do all their activities at night. mmkay.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

It had been over a week since I was with the Cullen's, and there was still no closure. Esme and I were still close, and Carlisle was hanging there, but Edward was a completely different story. At first, whenever I was around, he'd go hunting or just be somewhere else. I still couldn't pick up his scent to know where he was, and Esme told me not to worry about him. Like I was ever worried about him in the first place.

After a week his presence slowly became known, but we never exchanged words. He'd walk by, I'd tense up. Now whenever he walked by I could smell him from across the room. I learned to ignore him and whatever problems he had.

And even though Edward and I had a standstill relationship, I didn't bother trying to fix or amend it. I didn't care and as far as I knew the only person he cared about was himself. He rarely spoke and was rarely around. I didn't expect much anyways since he was a friend of Royce's—no matter how much Carlisle tried to tell me otherwise.

His name still stung, but I knew that I couldn't spend an eternity letting him get to me. Even though he didn't know it, I had to overpower him. I couldn't let him weigh me down. He still did. Time and time again I would think of him and everything would replay itself again and again and over and over. It had only been about two weeks since and the blood was still fresh. Esme said I seemed better. I asked her how she knew and she told me she could just feel it—mother's intuition. She had let that one slip. I didn't really mind.

I still couldn't hunt alone. I still couldn't be alone. I didn't like the dark. And I didn't want many things but I couldn't help but wonder what it could be like if I had found someone and if Royce hadn't been that way. But I didn't and couldn't so I gave up on that soon after, and even though Carlisle and Esme got to me I learned to trust no one.

And even when Edward wasn't in the room I grew to control what I thought along with what I said. I told them what they needed to hear and soon my acting got better—they never stared at me a moment longer or see through the lies. They believed it and gave me a small smile before continuing whatever they were doing. I liked that. I was more at peace.

Right now, it was dark out. It scared me. It reminded me of so much. I had nothing to do but look at the stars, but even they couldn't help me. In a different circumstance, but not now, not ever. I couldn't sleep—none of us could, Carlisle had told me. Sometimes I wished I could, just to make the darkness go away. But sometimes, like tonight, it felt like a good thing—no more dreams, no more nightmares.

Esme was in the other room. I didn't know what she was doing and I didn't really care. Carlisle went to work and Edward… I didn't care where Edward went.

My hand was under my chin and I played with my blonde hair in the other as I stared out the window, but when I got bored of that I looked around the room. I hadn't really gotten a chance—I was always out hunting with Esme. She let me wander around Vermont for short spans of time, and soon my blood control got better. She told me how good I was becoming, like a loving mother, but rather than basking in it I simply nodded. Being a vampire was like a double-edged sword.

In the corner I spotted Edward's baby grand piano. Esme told me about it, how Carlisle got it for Edward all the way from Boston.

I ran my fingers on top of the keys, touching everything as I went, curious. I bit the bottom corner of my lip and pressed one of the ivory keys, a sound emitting from the piano.

Esme came in the room—I didn't see, I heard her, and I turned at her.

"Do you know how to play?" she asked.

I nodded my head and looked back at the keys, pressing down on one of the black ones.

"You should hear Edward play, it's absolutely beautiful." I didn't say anything, not knowing what to say. I didn't care about Edward at all, but she thought I did. I didn't bother to correct her.

When I didn't say anything after that, Esme continued, "I'm sure Edward wouldn't mind if you played, go ahead." She smiled, before leaving the room again.

I knew very little of the piano. My parents didn't own one, but they wanted me to learn, so I could fit in with everyone else—the people high in social status. My mother had a friend who would teach me and I grew to like playing the piano, but as I got older the lessons weren't as frequent and soon not at all. I didn't know if I would remember.

I sat there for a long time, just staring at the keys. Then I put the tips of my fingers on the keys I wanted to play. I sat there, frozen, for a while, thinking. I took a deep breath and began to play.

It was horrible at first, and I messed up one too many times. But soon I was able to get the song down—a song I loved to listen to when I was younger: Let A Smile Be Your Umbrella. It was the only song I remembered how to play at that moment, and I began to play it over and over again. It reminded me of when I was human. That was only two weeks ago. It hurt.

When I couldn't keep playing I pulled my hands away and onto my lap, staring hard at the keys and black and white had never been so beautiful.

It was when I heard the sound of shifting behind me that I snapped my head up and looked behind me. Edward was standing there, watching me closely.

I managed to hide my thoughts, but let what I thought of him seep out. He made no change of emotion, as if he couldn't read minds at all. Too bad I knew better.

"I didn't know you play the piano," he said, coming closer.

"Well now you know," I said harshly, staying seated.

I didn't say anything else and neither did he, but he still didn't budge. I shifted my eyes towards him and saw him looking on the floor, thinking deeply.

Groaning, I got up from the piano and walked out of the room. I still didn't want to be near him and I knew his attempts at conversation was just full of lies.

I knew I would stay this way, all clamoured up and uneasy, because those men were free men. Carlisle had told me they hadn't been found, nor was Royce even questioned. He had disappeared from town, but Carlisle wasn't sure because he never spent time at Rochester anyways. I didn't know about Edward and where he would go, nor did I care.

I knew they were out there. Royce had too much fun with his business to move far away, and all four of his friends were probably there with him, amazed and proud of getting away with everything. Carlisle and Esme wanted me to let it go, but I couldn't when they were all just another state away… so close, yet so far at the same time.

I couldn't let them keep living there lives, making money off the illegality of liquor and laughing at how they didn't need a speak-easy because they ran their own business at home. Esme and Carlisle may have wanted me to forget about it, but they didn't know how _I_ felt about it.

I wouldn't be happy until they were gone. All of them.

The sound of the piano soon came into the room and Esme walked in, smiling.

"Rosalie, I thought that was you."

"Yeah, well it's not."

She nodded and looked into the room. I didn't follow her gaze.

"I'm going to go hunting," I said, barely a whisper. I didn't want Edward to hear, but I didn't know why I tried because he could hear everything.

Esme's head turned and she looked at me. "Alone?" she asked, her eyebrows rising in concern.

I looked away from her. "Yeah." I nodded to myself.

"It's late out." I knew she didn't want me to go. I knew she was trying to find an excuse. I couldn't blame her for trying.

"Practice," I reasoned, "I might as well try now."

She looked hesitant at first and looked at Edward before looking back at me. I knew what she was about to say and I shook my head, repeating that I would like to be alone and collect my thoughts. Edward did not stop playing. I did not stop blocking my thoughts from him, just in case.

"Okay then. Carlisle won't be back till tomorrow morning. And I'd like it if you stayed in Vermont, Rosalie."

I nodded. Not because I would obey her, but to acknowledge that I had heard her.

Instead of going through the room where Edward was playing the piano, I went around it. I didn't want to deal with him or his gaze or his thought reading, even though he probably could do it all through closed walls.

I briskly walked out of the house and opened the door silently. I didn't know who I was trying to hide from since hiding from vampires were near damn impossible. When I got out of the Godforsaken house I breathed in the air.

I could smell the animals even from here. My senses were still stronger than the average vampire, I knew. But it wasn't the animals I wanted. Well, it could be, if people counted. People _were_ animals these days.

Taking off in a quick run I ran through the forests in Vermont. I knew where I was going. I knew what I had to do. In order for me to get the closure I wanted, I'd have to commit a sin, something Carlisle nor Esme and even Edward would never approve of—that everything Carlisle had ever tried to accomplish as a "vegetarian" vampire would go through one ear and out the other for me.

* * *

I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing.

It all seemed logical when I was still in Vermont. I was running, constantly running from my problems—my fears. It was an endless chase, the game of hide-and-seek. I never wanted to be a monster. But I knew closure would never come.

What did the Cullen's want? To travel the world and sight see, watch things move as they looked at everything with curious eyes. Was my own desires of a human life preventing me from living mine? I was holding down my problems and couldn't grow on my own. I was dependable, always letting someone carry my weight—I was nothing. I had to fend for myself, stand up for myself. Or else I would be absolutely nothing.

My hopes, my dreams, my aspirations, no matter how seemingly out of reach, would go down the drain. I wasn't human, and I couldn't have what a human could anymore. I still held on.

I sprinted through the forest, getting away from it all. I didn't get to feel the air burn through my lungs, didn't feel my heart rate rise, didn't feel like my legs were going to break… I was _inhuman._

I never got tired, never would get tired. I didn't stop. I went to New York and ended up going back to Rochester, where every pain memory would lay. At first I didn't know why I kept going back, but I knew there was something about the place that brought me back. This time, however, it wasn't from a sentimental memory.

I slowed down once I reached near the edges of the forest, my eyes gold and my breathing heavy, anxious. I felt numb and I was exhausted, but not physically, of course.

The world around me began to shake, and I knew it was because my eyes were starting to reshape the scenery around me. My eyes blurred and made everything distorted, and I didn't know if it was because I was extremely tired or if I was crying. I couldn't feel tears, but I couldn't feel anything either. Maybe I was crying. Crying for the Cullen's. Crying for my mother. Crying for Tom and Nate. Crying for Royce.

When my senses came back to me I shook my head. Never for Royce, never again. I sat on the ground before laying back, not caring about my hair. The earth was dry—it hadn't rained in years, with the Depression and all. Besides, getting my clothes and hair dirty was the least of my problems. I was on the ground on my back, my face clean of filthy terrain. My head pressed against the earth and probably wrapped my hair in chunks of a darker brown. It was a stench smell, but I didn't pay any attention to it.

I didn't know how long I waited there, alone, since time felt frozen because nothing changed around me. It was already dark when I left. The forest felt enormous that whenever I looked inside from the outside, it looked like it led to oblivion.

Now it looked like an empty shell.

There was no moonlight to filter nightfall, the sky was painted black, and being enclosed inside a forest made it difficult to see. I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

Light never managed to find its way, and I felt stuck to the ground. It was a long time before I heard something break through the silence. A loud rustling noise outside of the forest. The voice came from town, I could hear them distantly.

Protruding from the ground, my head felt heavy and my mind was dazed, struggling to focus. Then the noise had stopped. I got up on my feet and ran to the very edge of town, trying to stay quiet as possible. I climbed up the trees and thanked God it was dark out. There were no leaves and if it were day I would have been easy to spot.

The voices were clearer and I could smell them, four of them. I felt a dizzy range of emotions start to work its way around my head as I fought to control myself. When the voices became clearer and the smell became more prominent, surprise and fear seemed to have collaborated together, for I recognized what I smelled and heard.

It was John, I could tell. Owen was with them. There were also two others. Ruthlessly I ran, sprinting out of the forest. My eyes sparked in it's ruby red colour and sudden determination blazed through my eyes like fire.

The only thing I could hear were their hearts pumping blood through their veins—calm and carefree like they got away with murder. Not if I could help it. Up and down, left and right. Everything else, the rest of the world, was on mute. All that was on my mind was getting to them.

I could faintly hear their voices.

"…more liquor… Henry's…grands of… already five…"

"…find… did they…"

"…no… disappeared…"

There voices were in hushed whispers, voices I knew a human wouldn't be able to hear from my distance nonetheless. I carefully climbed down the tree and saw faint traces of them. I could smell them, but I tried to ignore that. It was hard.

I followed them the entire way, staying a good distance behind them. I knew that I was going to be going to one of their homes. I didn't know who it was and I didn't care. Soon they wouldn't either.

I could smell their blood, but I didn't want any of it. I knew I would be able to resist. I couldn't taint myself.

When they went inside I settled right outside and saw them each drink some illegal liquor, laughing. I could smell the liquor and I hated it. I heard Royce's name and that was enough to send me over the edge. Thank God the house was alone in the area.

I shot straight from the door, practically out of nowhere, and ran for one of them, a blow to their left and we flew across the room before slamming into one of the walls. My fingers clawed against the ground when we slid to the floor.

I let out a low gurgling growl and my eyes went feral, as if dragging the darkness with it.

"Ro… Rosalie…?" I heard one say and turned swiftly at the sound of the voice, glaring. I knew I had just knocked Owen down and stared at the other three men before me. I let out a daunting smile, my eyes probably pure black, dark with anger.

John started to move and I lunged at him before he could get anywhere. He was frantic and his breathing came out in jagged breaths, his heart sounding as if it was going to explode. Liquor was all over the floor.

"I was kind of expecting that you wouldn't run off in a fight, John. It doesn't fit your character." My voice dripped with ice.

They didn't say anything, too stunned to move. Their heavy hearts pounded, the only sounds of life. I hated it.

I heard Owen take a deep breath and I went to him, pushing John on the floor. "How—"

"You shouldn't be talking," I said as I ran one of my feet into Owen's side, feeling his ribs break. He started to scream and they started to move, but I ran back in front of them, grabbing one by the neck and throwing him against the wall.

"You think I'm going to kill you?" My hollow voice was very close to one of the other men—the only one still unscathed. "Death… is just a step. I'll let you bleed to death. So don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. Just let you have what I had." I hissed malevolently, and in an instant picked him off the ground and threw him to the floor. "Strange how power shifts so easily, doesn't it?"

If there was something positive about being a vampire, it was that I couldn't get hurt. And since I didn't feel anything to these men, I was unaffected. To me, they were so tiny, so pathetic, so… mortal.

I kicked the man closest to me and he yelled. I rolled my eyes and picked him up before running my nails down his back and pushing him to a wall. His head collided with the wall, leaving a dent, and he went out cold. Soon, blood started to seep out.

At the first sight of blood I knew I didn't have long.

John, Owen, and what I remembered as Henry, was still alive, barely breathing. I wouldn't let go. Owen and John were on the floor and Henry just stared at me like a wide eyed doe.

The colour in my eyes deepened in depth and looked past them as if I were looking through them. Their blood was rising, pulsing—so rancid, yet so delectable.

"Rosalie… what happened?"

"You know what happened, Henry," I said as I dragged my fingernails deep through his rough skin. He let out a strangled scream and I went extra theatrical to get a rise out of John and Owen. I picked up one of the glasses that held the liquor and drove it through his chest, letting the blood run all the way down to his legs and onto my hands…

Disgusted with the blood I let go of him and gave him a hard blow to his chest, letting him fly backwards. He swung around helplessly like a doll before slamming onto a wall. Before I could recklessly thrash him I went to Owen who was backing away. He held his arms over his head and I pushed my foot onto his cold and still heart.

I couldn't see him, but I heard John, so I dragged Owen by the neck and grabbed John by the arm, pressing hard and preventing the blood from flowing. I twisted it, pulling his arm right out of the socket, and dragged him to the center of the room.

"You can't leave me, just like I couldn't leave you." I huffed, taking in my own strength to make the brawny and disgusting John and Owen fall. I pushed Owen to the floor and my foot made contact with his shoulder and scarcely hit the side of his face.

All they could do was scream. I didn't want to talk to them anyways. I didn't want to risk the temptation.

Owen grunted in displeasure and tried to grab my ankle, so I kicked him on the side of his face. It wasn't long before he was out cold.

I clouted the side of John's face too, enough to send him tumbling off of me. He tried to stand but I kicked him in the stomach, but not hard—I wanted him to suffer.

"Where's Royce?" I asked. I barely said anything to them, too afraid that once I opened my mouth I wouldn't be able to control myself.

John groaned in pain and tried to push himself up, but his body was feeble and he crashed back down. His will to fight couldn't compare to my strength

I walked over to him and wrapped my fingers around his throat, a shadow crossing my face. My jaw was held tight—he was so close. I smelled his blood and my hands became tainted when I felt his blood on my skin.

"You didn't really think you were getting off that easy, did you?" I said patronizingly. "Not like them."

"Rose… Rosalie… you—how… I just… don't… you said… kill…"

I looked to the floor, inspecting my nails on the hand not holding him. "I said I had no plans on killing you, but now I do."

I was going to kill him, I held no remorse. This new found confidence I felt wasn't normal, but what they did, it was going to end with death, and all I would feel would be pleasure.

When I knew he was about to pass out, I released John."What are you…" John managed to strangle out before his voice gave out and his knees buckled. I only smiled, revealing teeth that glistened in the moonlight.

Then I crouched down and picked him up by the collar of his shirt, easily swooping and lifting him from the ground right after he had fallen.

My hand rewrapped around the hind of his neck while the other held him back, preventing him from moving. The hand around his neck was the only thing supporting him from falling over.

Then I stopped suddenly. "Any last words?"

"Stop… I can't…brea—"

"Those are horrible last words," I told him tauntingly. "And… that's kind of the point, Johnny. Guess you can't tell all your friend about the girl who was better than your Georgian peaches, huh?" I sneered.

Raging, I threw John against the wall too, the walls scathing his skin more than one at I time. I saw the blood rolling off his scalp while blood from the other side of his head started to mat his hair together. I felt all their blood on me too… on my hands and my hair.

Blood fell on John's face and neck. I smirked; conquer painted all over my face. His breathing was uneven and his inhalation was gasping for air.

Then he stopped moving, the bleeding never subsiding. John doubled over, clutching his stomach while I watched him on the ground.

A low growl made my senses jolt, and I knew I was ravenous, anticipating the entire devour. I sniffed the air. Blood was everywhere.

Crouching down towards where John was, my fingertips softly brushed away strands of hair that was matted with blood onto his head, face and neck.

"Where's Royce?" I seethed, glaring at him.

I was getting mad with an irrepressible thirst, and I couldn't be tormented anymore. I needed sweet blood and I needed it now. But I couldn't get it from John or Owen or Henry, I wouldn't subject myself to that.

My slender fingers pulled away from the blood, but I could still smell it. John's eyes were half closed and he wasn't answering. Frustrated, I gave him one last hard shove, pushing him into the wall and bashing his head onto the floor before getting up.

I heard his head snap backwards, exposing his neck with his brittle skin holding his blood soaked head in place. My teeth bared itself and I felt darkness starting to overwhelm my body. All four men were passed out cold, yet they were still overpowering me. My stomach swam in fear and all the hairs on my body stood in attention. My breath was laboured even though I didn't need to breathe and I wanted to scream out, but the hunger and powerless state stopped me from doing anything.

I knew if I didn't get out I would taint myself with the people I hated. Through the blur of everything around me, I could envision my own eyes now completely black, eating the light that wanted to reflect back. I couldn't speak and I couldn't move. All I could to was watch the world close behind my eyelids as I would have to accept my defeat and go in a ravenous rage.

I spotted a mirror and saw myself, everything I knew I hated. My face reminded me of what I would see everyday for the rest of my life: onyx eyes, a defeated expression, and a futile attempt at composure…

Through nausea and vertigo, I saw the one part of myself that made me recoil in fear. My eyes. The spiralling dark, fiery and dangerous eyes that burned. I knew I would live forever, but that didn't scare me. That wasn't it at all. It was my eyes. They were crazy. Insane. I had to escape them. I had to. I just had to, but I couldn't.

My eyes. My eyes were burning with an uncontrollable need. Blood was all around—my head, my arms, my hands, my legs—and that drove me to the brink of insanity if I didn't drink anything soon.

I was so hungry for blood that all my senses began to loose control. I had been near them too long. I hadn't eaten all day. The painful resistance made me feel like I was on fire, and I felt so close to dying if I didn't fulfill my thirst.

But soon the adrenaline began pumping through my standstill veins. I couldn't lose, never. I could taint myself. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I shut my eyes and sealed my lips tight before grabbing onto the wall and lifting myself from the ground. I pressed my forehead onto the wall and I screamed. The control was unbearable. I closed my hands into fists and with all the strength I could muster I made my way out of the house. Had there been any other houses near by I would have depopulated the entire town. I ran straight for the clearing and into the forest.

My senses seemed to have intensified tenfold because they were sensitive to smell all around me. I didn't stop when I got that first animal, or the seventh. It didn't taste as good as humans would have been but I didn't stop.

Closure was so close.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

It was dark out. The darkness seeped out fast tonight. The moonlight played along my skin, making it both look surreal and dreamlike. The pure white reflected a very pale skin and my features lit up—bright and dazzling.

Anything to take my mind off the situation I was currently in. I bit down my lower lip in anxiety and because of the dragging pain too much like fire that I could feel inside of me. Just thinking about it made my whole body tremble even more. My arms were shaking from underneath my own grip, so all I could do was lean against one of the tress, pressing against it.

All I could hear was my heavy breathing and nothing else. Animal blood dripped from my mouth and onto the ground. Against my snow white skin it looked almost black in colour. I ran my fingers through the trail it left on my arm, inspecting the crimson liquid. I looked around the forest and even though I could see everything clearly, I knew they were pure black.

I was terrified. I could feel the darkness swirling around me, about to eat me whole. It was pulsating out of my body and my skin felt colder than I knew. My legs felt frail and my head throbbed.

But I couldn't give up, I was so close. There was a hollow and painful feeling in my chest and I couldn't breathe. I didn't need to breathe, but I still wanted to.

After standing in the forest for a long period of time I finally pushed myself off the tree.

I had to go back. Royce was still out there.

When I could finally breathe I welcomed whatever oxygen came my way. I smelled the blood of the animals I just killed, but something else was lingering the air. My eyes snapped open and I looked around, but saw nothing. I recognized that scent. I just couldn't remember where.

But that didn't matter because then I wanted to get away, away from it all. I just stayed standing a moment longer, trying to distinguish it—and that was when I heard twigs snap. Fear gave my feet wings and I ran, ran into trees, ran as you only could in nightmares, and behind me… I didn't know, didn't want to know.

Curiosity soon got the best of me however, because I turned my head. Nothing was there, just constant darkness, but when I turned back around I halted immediately, almost tripping on my own feet.

There, a good distance away that the human eye could probably miss was Edward. I sniffed the air and knew it had been him. He was just standing there, somehow he was there when he had been behind me, I knew. But this Edward, he was a different one: tall and lissom and dangerous. His eyes burned itself into my skin as he looked at me, filled with rage so fierce that before I was even aware, I started to back away.

The moment I stepped back though, was the moment he came forward, rushing. At that instant I stilled, glaring up at him, refusing to give him anymore ground. For long moments he considered me silently, his eyes glowing an intense topaz colour mixed with gold. More fiercely, more savagely.

And no matter how much I hated and loathed ever fibre of Edward Cullen, I couldn't help but feel scared. I was fearful for my life, yet days ago I would have given it up easily.

I saw him for what he was, skin so pale it was almost glowing, body sinewy like that of a sword fighter, bronze hair unkempt and wild from the wind, his very presence radiating a sort of frightening power I couldn't put my finger on.

"Rosalie," he breathed my name for the first time, a whisper on the edge of a plea, "stop." His voice was dangerously calm, as if there was anger bubbling underneath, ready to erupt.

No matter how much he frightened me, I would never give him the upper hand, even as I cowered away.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, glowering hard at him. When he didn't answer I said it again, yelling. I flinched at my own words, my own defiance to him, feeling more threatened by his gentleness that I had his rage.

"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing? Why were you in Rochester?" His voice was about to go over the edge and I knew with one push he'd be yelling.

I knew he knew what I had done.

So I pushed him over the edge.

"Why were you following me?" I asked him, completely ignoring him, which made him angrier.

He too ignored what I said, trying to remain calm. I smirked about it. "How could you have killed those men? Do you know the danger you've put on yourself?" he snarled at me.

"What danger? I'm okay, aren't I?"

"Barely."

I walked away from him, but then something dawned on me. I stopped walking and whipped my head around, my blonde hair brushing across my cheeks. "Did you follow me?"

"You slipped up to Esme. I've been on your trail since you left the house."

_Then he must have saw me at my breaking point, almost uncontrollable._

"I did."

I groaned, blocking my thoughts from him.

"Why do you even read my mind?"

"To stop you from doing stupid things."

"Well, you're doing a _terrible_ job at it, Edward."

Before, I wouldn't have been able to talk back to him. I wouldn't have been able to yell at him or question him, but all the fright I had felt before vanished, and it was like nothing bad had ever happened to me in the first place.

I felt my lips part, felt my expression become full with what I was feeling, and anger rushed in again, anger at myself for my weakness. I was letting Edward control me, and ever since my mother, ever since Royce, I wouldn't ever be controlled again. I felt anger shut my lips again, firm and into a hard line and watched as the quiet moment was shattered. Edward's anger returned with smooth suddenness, his expression tinged in helpless frustration.

"Why are you so difficult?" he growled, his fingers now wrapped around my wrist. I was moving now. His touch was too much. Using my other arm I brought it hard against his head, and then started to claw against his shoulder. It took so little time, and yet I knew I was slow, too slow to ever outrun him. I felt the crack of his skull all the way down my arm, a blow that would have felled a human. But even as I moved his hand shot out, catching my wrist again in a grip so tight I feared he'd break it. There was crazy madness in his eyes, no trace of thought. Fingers clamped hard about my wrist and I tried to pull away, hitting and clawing with a defiant scream, still swinging.

The difference between Royce and Edward was that no matter how much I hated the vampire before me, I felt no urge to kill him. I just wanted to be free: free from release, free from indifference.

His grip got tighter and I struggled but he kept me stationary. The creature before me was a more forceful version of the ruthless yet eloquent vampire I knew at the house.

I knew he could see my eyes, tinged with fear—it was the first time I had seen him in an intense state. His eyes didn't reflect any light as they showed no fear and no remorse; they revealed nothing, and in turn, they saw nothing.

"You'll never understand what I did and why I did it, so I'm not even going to explain it to you. And besides, no one saw me."

"How do you know?" he said, frustrated, his teeth clenching against the words.

"It was the only house around, and I killed all four of them anyways."

"So you're proud of it? You're proud of taking away someone's life?"

"You mean like the way Carlisle took mine?"

He shook his head. "It's not the same."

"And neither is the way I decided to take theirs."

Edward's jaw clenched and he didn't say anything else. I was a raging volcano bubbling against the surface of my skin. My mind was foggy, hate splaying through it. The longer I was with Edward, the longer Royce had a chance to get away.

I kicked Edward in the gut with my foot and my nails came down against his head. He fell to the ground with a loud thump, and before he could react, I was running to Rochester once again. I was in a rush to think where I was going, and everywhere around me was giant trees and wilderness. At least I knew where I was going.

This time I didn't bother to look back, didn't bother to see if Edward was there, because I didn't care anymore. The only thing on my mind was getting Royce.

* * *

The first place I went was my own home. Everyone was gone from there and I didn't know where they were. I didn't know whether or not I should care.

I slipped into my room and saw that everything was the same. When I went to the closet it was still there—the dress. I touched it, running the fabric through my fingertips, suddenly sad. I was supposed to wear this on my wedding day, not _murdering_. But I knew a wedding would never come, and that it might as well get some use, even if I was going to kill the supposed groom-to-be.

I pulled the dress out and held it against me, starting to dream of my wedding day. But as soon as those thoughts came I shut them out, wanting nothing more than to tear the dress apart. I didn't. Instead, I put it on. It felt soft and I felt beautiful. My blonde hair was done and slightly messy, so I ran my fingers through it. It didn't do much.

I quickly stepped out of the house, running straight into the edge of town. It was late out so I knew there wouldn't be a lot of people wandering around, but I had to be safe.

I smelled the air, but I couldn't weed out my victim. I knew Royce wasn't going to be easy to find, but I also knew that he wouldn't run away and raise suspicion. I knew how his mind worked, just like I knew he had known mine.

I didn't know how long I wandered, before realizing I had been back and forth Rochester twice. The second time I was hardly paying attention though, just thinking. On my third walk down I saw the bank. It was dark, dreary, and abandoned. It was the place that started the entire mess.

Quickly, so I wouldn't be seen, I came for the bank and saw the deadlock on it. Using my hands, I broke it in half and pushed the door. There was no light and I could see traces of dust. But far off, on the other end of the room, there was a door, and a faint light coming from within it. I smelt the air. There it was.

Walking briskly towards that door, the darkness not hindering me at all, I knocked. The shuffling on the other side stopped immediately and I heard hesitant footsteps. Any longer and I would have slammed open the door myself.

"Who is it?" I heard, their voice lethargic and wary.

I didn't know how to answer it.

"Royce, I need some liquor!" I hollered, mimicking one of his friends—his dead friends.

I heard more rustling. "What? Henry…? You know—"

The door opened quickly and Royce stopped talking once he saw my face. My expression was bored, and his was everything but.

"R… Ro… Rose?" Royce stammered, his entire body frozen. "How the heck are you…"

"Alive?"

He didn't say anything. I laughed.

"What are… what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing _here_ or what am I doing _alive_?"

"Rose…how…?" He couldn't finish his sentences, he couldn't finish a lot of things.

"Maybe, you just did a bad job of hiding the evidence," I snarled, "but then again, that's not what John or Owen said…"

"What? What did you do to them?"

"It wasn't a fair fight—five against one. So I killed four of them easily, so it's just me and you, _Kitten_." I said the last part with disdain, throwing his stupid pet name back at him. "And this time, I won't be quick. I want you to feel everything."

I could barely contain my composure because once I stopped talking I ran to him and flung his body against the wall, his arms and legs—he was too stunned to notice where the pain was coming from—crunched against the wall and fell onto the floor.

I heard him let out a bloodcurdling scream, his eyes wide and the colour draining from his face. Unlike John, we weren't in a closed space, so I knew I had to make Royce's death quick, no matter how much I didn't want to.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to find you. But they wouldn't let me. So I came after you myself. It's not that hard. A bank, Royce? Not the greatest hiding spot. But then again, you didn't know I was coming. I'm supposed to be dead. And I am, in a way, just not the way you wanted me to be. Look at me, I can't stop talking. So what have you been up to?"

He didn't answer. I wasn't expecting him to.

I walked up close to him and he didn't back away. He wasn't scared of me, he didn't know what I could do. Before he could blink I grabbed onto his throat and hoisted him off the ground. My strength caught him by surprise, and no matter how much he clawed on my arm, I didn't feel a thing.

"I hate you, more than you'll ever know. You don't deserve anything."

"What… are you?"

I threw him onto the floor, angry. "Because of you I'm like this… because of you I'll _never_ have my happily ever after. I'll never be like Vera, and I actually _want_ to be like her. Before, she would get my pity, but now she has my envy," I said to him, but I knew he was clueless as to what I was talking about. But I said it anyways because I was livid and because he needed to know how I felt, even if he couldn't understand it.

I watched as Royce tried desperately to push himself off the ground, but before he could, I brought my nails down on him and dug deep, dragging them downwards on his shirt, tearing it open as more blood spilled out. Again and again as Royce hollered and I uttered a noise that sounded more like a growl then anything else. I finally halted and reached out to grab Royce by the neck—snapping it.

The loud bone crack was the most ear-splitting sound compared to the rest of the fight. Finally, I lightly grazed my fingertips on his skin before pushing the hardest and deepest I could force down, my whole hand raking his flesh from inside his chest.

Protruding from the ground, victorious, I stood up and nonchalantly brushing away the imaginary dirt on me, a small grin breaking on her lips. I turned and stared at his unconscious body, and for a second, almost felt sorry for him. He was a coward and nothing more besides vindictive pride.

He was still breathing, he was still alive. "I can't drag out your death because I can't even stand the sight of you breathing. It kills me."

So I went back on the floor and my natural instincts began to take over as I held onto Royce's neck, tightening my hold. Royce's eyes grew wide in fear and his breathing became shallow. I could feel the rapid. Pulsating beat of his heart as if it were my own. And because of him, I would always wonder.

Royce helplessly tried to free himself, but I moved too fast for his slow and human features to follow. My fingers curled and I felt the crunching of his bones as I pressed my palm on his collarbone, his back getting driven through the wall. He was in too much shock to let out a full scream, only a yelp escaping his lips.

Annoyed with his persistence, I backhanded him with my other hand before he could squirm. My hit was hard enough to send his head slamming to the ground, a sickening crack coming from the connection. I came at him harder than I intended. Oh well. His head was twisted at a gruesome angle, his eyes staring off into space. I wanted him to bleed as little as possible, but hurt him the most I could.

His eyes were still open, but I saw nothing in them. I shut my eyes and turned my head once I saw fresh blood starting to roll off his head, so beautifully that it was sending my thirst into overdrive. His blood called for me and I could imagine myself at the crook of his neck, ready for the kill—the easy kill.

The sweet taste of blood filled my mouth, but only in my dreams. When I opened my eyes I knew they were black and menacing. I saw the side of his face pressed onto the ground, and I could practically feel the blood running down his skull from all sides. He moaned in restlessness and all I did was stare at him.

"You can't kill me Rose…" he let out, struggling.

I was over him at once, my foot pushing down on his back. Then I felt myself giving out, my consciousness slipping. I was losing control of all senses.

I was practically breathless. "You're the first person who I've actually had an uncontrollable desire to kill. Whether you consider yourself honoured or damned is completely your choice."

I had been able to barely scrape by a room with four men, blood coming out of them, but at the slightest smell with only one human in the room… I couldn't help it. The animal blood I had drank earlier seemed like it had done nothing.

I heard Royce's scream in pain and frustration mixed in one. I saw the blood roll to his neck, almost touching my foot. The smell of his blood twisted in my stomach.

I could practically see my own eyes. They were angry, bloodlust eyes, filling myself with hunger. My eyes were changing, but I knew I couldn't fully give in to the darkness. Soon I couldn't move or pick up my feet to get out. I stopped moving and surrendered myself to my terrifying fate as I realized I would soon lose all control.

My frozen heart was caught in my throat and my eyes were wide. Royce's face… the four men's faces… they were drained of colour and the white floor like I remembered, was drenched with red. The bare walls behind the chairs were splattered with blood. Blood. Everywhere.

And lying amongst it all was Royce's body and four bodies, sprawled out, and unconscious. Their faces now matched mine, as white as snow, and my blonde hair was matted to my head, which was, not to mention, in disarray from their futile attempts to escape. My once pallid flesh was smeared violet and red. The vase on the table was knocked over and shattered along the floor and everything was out of place.

My first human killing all in one day. The image would be etched in my brain forever.

In that same second, I suddenly felt cold. I shivered but I knew it wasn't from any draughts. The air around me froze over, sending chills up my spine. Someone was here.

I turned behind me, but I couldn't see anything. I almost wished I could. I couldn't distract myself from the blood. I bared my teeth at Royce, saliva practically dripping from my mouth. The world seemed unstable and it felt as if gravity was dragging my down even though I knew I had already fallen on the floor too, that I was so close. Through blurred vision all I could see was the colour red as I got closer and closer.

But before I could taste it, I saw the world spin around me in one flurry of movement. Someone was calling my name, their tone frantic, worried… scared even. I just couldn't figure out who it was.

"Rosalie," I heard him say. I couldn't move. Arms were wrapped tightly around me and my face was pushed into the crook of his neck. I couldn't smell anything, my senses had gone over the edge and stayed there. I was numb.

"You're so…" he trailed off, and I knew it was Edward. He was there. He was still there. Why was he still there?

I tried to lift my head, but I couldn't. The air was stronger than my own ability to move. My eyes were barely open, but through the darkness of the night I was able to see him. He was the same vampire I had seen moment earlier, the same pallid skin and topaz eyes.

My senses soon came back to me and I was able to think straight. The thought of me being so close to tainting myself with Royce's blood made me sick to my stomach. I could barely stand up at the thought. Opening my eyes seemed much harder than closing them.

I was dizzy and desperate and I could hear Edward's snarling. I was tired and I didn't want to deal with him. And I knew I was too dazed to block my thoughts, and I was pretty sure he heard every single one of them.

"Are you going to yell at me?" I asked him. When he didn't answer I wondered if he hadn't heard me so I repeated myself, adding, "because I broke your rules, didn't I?" I didn't say any of it softly, like you'd probably see in a movie where the damsel was so weak that her voice came out timid. It came out as a snarl, frustration laced around it. Edward heard. He sighed.

"No," he said immediately, his arms still wrapped around me. They were tight on my back and if his nose was in my hair it might have looked intimate. But he was looking in the distance, just holding me for reassurance and to make sure I didn't go back. I didn't know what to think of it, what to think of him."Why not?" I asked. All I wanted to do at that moment was hide away and curl up on the floor.

"It was right. You needed to do it. I understand."

_Liar_.

"No, I'm not lying," he replied to my thoughts.

"Why are you so quick to jump ship?"

"I was being irrational towards Esme, and to you."

"Really?" I asked him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He groaned at my unwillingness to understand.

I pushed away from him, hard. He hadn't been expecting that and he stumbled back a bit. I glared at him the entire time. "I don't get you. You hated me the first moment you saw me and now you come waltzing in here like… as if everything's suddenly okay. I did things you _hated_, so how come you're so eager to all of a sudden side with me? Are you messed in the head?"

People didn't change drastically over a couple of days, I knew. Because when they did, something was up. And I knew Edward was planning something, something horrible, I bet.

"I didn't need to read your thoughts to figure it out. It's quite clear, by the way you simply moved and reacted to things I said, that unless they were gone, there would be no closure."

I regarded him, just watching his eyes. They stared back at me, blank like they always were. I looked at the floor, for they were too strong, even though seemingly bored.

"I almost drank his blood," I said, mostly to myself. I was disgusted and my stomach twisted and turned at the thought of it. I closed my eyes and brought my hand up to cover them. I sighed, lost.

"But you didn't."

"It was because of you."

"I couldn't let you. Sometimes temptation overrides hate, but even then, I wouldn't let you taint yourself."

I looked up at him, confused. I was a good distance away from him and kept it that way, for now. "Why? Why are you… just like Esme told me? Why do you care?"

"Esme sees you like family, as does Carlisle. I do too, in a way. And I look out for them. And I look out for you. Royce is a terrible person, I knew that from the one day I met him. If I knew he was coming after you I would have done something, but I was in Vermont—"

He was looking at me so intently, and I swore I saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. He looked like he was in slight pain, and I knew he was trying to convince me, but I already knew the truth. "I know. Esme told me, and Carlisle. It's just so hard…" We were looking right into each other's eyes, and I was looking straight through him.

It was so much easier to say things now that I knew Royce was gone.

"Then why were you so ready to see the worst in people?"

"Because then I can't be disappointed," I whispered. I couldn't be disappointed like all the times before. I looked up at him. "What happened with Royce… I probably won't ever be the same again." And I was truly scared of that, of living all of eternity as a scared little girl. Sure, I was almost invincible, but on the inside I was a torn up mess that would eat me alive.

Edward came close to me and grabbed my shoulders. He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head and saying, very clearly, "Can't you see? You're changing already. The first time you saw me you were scared, even with Carlisle. Esme had it easy, and she was able to bring Carlisle in too, because he had saved you. What could I offer? I gave you space, but then started to make myself known. You don't tense up at the sight of me or run off screaming like you probably would. You even stand up to me. You might be afraid of the things out there and you can't conquer everything, but you can conquer some things, starting with me—which you've already done. Heck, you yell at me all the time!"

I thought about it for a moment, and I knew what he said was right. I tried denying it but it was no use because I knew the truth. I didn't know if it was a good thing, how I was coping. I think it was. I think I wanted it to be.

"You're right."

"I know." He let out a small smile and I rolled my eyes at him. It was enough to make me annoyed, his _happiness_. Because Edward or not, I couldn't let him see me like that. I just let Edward see a side of me not even Esme had seen: vulnerability beyond belief.

"I can't… I can't believe _you_ of all people… I just… I can't…"

Edward's smile broke into a grin before he started to laugh.

"Be quiet! And you better not tell this to Esme or Carlisle!" I yelled at him, pointing a finger at him.

"Oh?" he challenged.

"Say one word and I'll kill you. Then I'll get Carlisle to bring you back to life just so I can kill you again!" I huffed and walked past him before breaking into a sprint back to Vermont. I could hear Edward behind me, and I knew he made sure I knew he was there. He reminded me of so much.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

As terrible as Royce's and his friend's deaths were made out to be by Edward—because I knew he thought that way, I knew how he worked—I was satisfied. I felt better, as if several weights were off of my shoulders. They got what they deserved and if Edward or Esme or Carlisle didn't agree… I wouldn't care.

Edward seemed to understand though, but I didn't know if it was just a façade. I would have liked it to be just so I wouldn't be faced with something new, something were people actually _cared_. But Esme was already the caretaker to have walked into my life. I didn't know where I was with Carlisle. He changed me. I didn't know how I felt about it. I hated being this way, but, for reasons I couldn't explain, I couldn't hate him. Maybe it was because Esme couldn't either.

And with Edward… I loathed him, I knew that, but at the same time sought out for him. I confronted him about things and would never back down from him. He was handsome but I wasn't the least bit attracted to him. He was infuriating and I knew I wouldn't be able to last being a room alone with him. I'd skin him alive. And I knew the way he felt too. He never gave me a second glance and must have thought I wasn't worth his time. He was wrong though, because he wasn't worth mine.

It only took one night for our relationship to change. I wasn't ignoring him anymore—mostly because I couldn't. Did I trust him? No. I still watched what I thought whether or not he was even in the room.

The Cullen's came at me from all angles and I didn't know how to react. And now I was going back to their home where I was resurrected. In a couple of week's time I was closer to them than my own family. And soon, my own family would be lost, in the furthest depths of my mind. I didn't know if I wanted it to be like that.

When we reached a couple of miles close to the house I halted, and I heard Edward stop as well behind me.

"Look, we don't say one thing about this to Esme or Carlisle, okay?"

"That's not going to work. They'll know."

"They can't read minds."

"They can read faces."

"So?"

"You're very predictable Rosalie, no matter how much you think you aren't. And it's a flawed plan. Five consecutive deaths are going to spread around town like wildfire."

I sighed. He was right. I wouldn't tell him that though. "Fine then. I'll tell them."

"There you go, sister dearest."

I glared at him. "Don't call me that again or I'll skin you alive."

I didn't wait for an answer but saw a small smile on his lips. Before he could say anything I ran to the house, but the pace wasn't as fast. I knew I smelled of their scent, and wondered what was I thinking when I thought that I would be able to bypass Esme and Carlisle.

When I opened the front door I spun around, searching for Edward. He was a good distance behind me, near a tree. He was staring with concerned and cautious eyes and only then did I remember that eyes were like the windows to ones soul, and for some reason I could feel as if I was watching his very soul through his eyes. Edward was his own mystery. I didn't know if I wanted to solve it. I probably wouldn't.

I took a step into the house, my eyes full of curiosity before spotting Esme. There would be confessions tonight.

When I stepped inside I could hear Esme in another room. I didn't know how I would go approaching her or even saying it, so I said it in the empty room I was currently standing in the middle of. I decided to wait on telling her and instead went into my makeshift room, stripping the wedding dress and putting on something more comfortable. I stared at the dress for a moment before shredding it with my hands and throwing it into a bag I would throw out later.

I went back into the room near the door and listened. Esme was still in the other room as if I never came here, but I knew she was probably leaving me alone on purpose.

I sighed before closing my eyes and muttering, "I killed them."

It wasn't long before Esme's head popped from the corner, confusion etched on her face. "Pardon, Rosalie? Were you calling me?"

I shook my head at her. "I… I killed them, and I'm not sorry for doing it."

I didn't think it was possible, but Esme looked more confused than before. She parted her lips more than once but didn't say anything, just watching me. She stepped close to me and was holding a stack of old newspapers in her hands.

I sighed. "Those men. The people that attacked me? They're dead. I killed them." There was no remorse in my voice and no ill-feeling inside of me.

"How do you feel?" Esme asked, concern written all over her.

"Fine. Better, actually."

A smile started to appear on her face and her eyes lit up—just a bit. "You did what you had to do."

"And she didn't taste any of their blood," Edwards said from behind me. I almost forgot he was there. With my head turned from Esme I stared down Edward, but he gave no reaction to my scrutiny. I didn't think he cared. I was surprised that he didn't try to bring me down and say that he had to rescue me from drinking their blood.

"Yeah," I agreed. I wouldn't let Esme knew I almost lost all control.

"Where's Carlisle?" Edward then asked, changing the subject.

"He's in Virginia," Esme said casually, as if it were the norm for him to be so far away. For all I knew, it could have been.

"What's he doing there?" Edward asked, and apparently, it wasn't.

"Trying to find a job. He's not particularly fond of house calls, and the only place that even considered hiring was down south. I think... I think everything's getting better. He called me earlier today, when you both were out, says the town he's in is in good shape compared to here."

"So what happens if he does get the job?" I asked, considerably worried. I knew it could be felt across the room. They noticed. Edward didn't have to read minds to know.

"We're not sure yet. He could just run to Virginia every morning, I bet, but…" she began to trail off.

But I would have none of it. I couldn't handle not knowing. "But what?"

Esme was visibly hesitant and she looked behind me, to Edward. I turned back to Edward and raised a brow at him. He looked calm. Nothing could phase him. He was a lot like Tom.

"We'd move away, Rose—away from here."

"And you'd just assume I was fine with that?" I asked Esme, but was still staring at Edward. In a way, I was asking him. It was easier to be angry at him anyways.

"I could call Carlisle…" Esme started to say from behind me.

I whipped my head towards her and nodded, as if it were obvious. "You should, because I don't want to move from here. I'm far enough from Rochester as it is. And I'm not moving farther away, with or without you guys."

Esme regarded me for a moment, her eyes not totally there, before letting out a small smile and crumbling the already crumpled newspaper in her hands.

"Well, I'm going hunting. Rosalie, are you coming?" Edward asked offhandedly, trying to deter the topic of conversation.

I kept my eyes on Esme for a moment as she walked out of the room before turning to Edward. I considered him before asking, "What was that?" I whispered harshly, even though I knew Esme could hear if she wanted to. I lost all care the moment she brought up moving away from Vermont.

"What was what? Carlisle and Esme considered moving to Virginia, but because of you we'll probably stay here and Carlisle will probably continue doing house calls until the Depression ends here."

I scoffed. "Because of me? Really, Edward?" I asked him, but didn't give him a chance to answer because I breezed past him and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Aren't you supposed to take me hunting?" I said dauntingly, leaving him at my wake as I practically flew out of the house.

I didn't wait up for him as I headed into the forests of Vermont, attacking any animals that came my way. There wasn't many, but I had already eaten, so I wasn't particularly craving blood.

When I stopped I knew Edward was behind me. I kept my back to him, even when I heard him approaching. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in the air around me before turning and swiftly pushing Edward onto the nearest tree. His back slammed against the bark and he looked taken aback before regaining composure. He did not move.

Frustrated with his reverie, I began to slam my fists into his chest. I didn't say anything and he made no noise, frustrating me even further.

"I don't know how they can stand you. I don't know why I haven't killed you yet, either," I said, mostly to myself, as I continued to punch him.

He grabbed my wrists and I knew his entire demeanor changed. I never did like calm and collective Edward, but a calm and collective _and_ angry Edward was no good. Even I knew that. I wouldn't let him know that though.

"Funny, I thought the same thing. But instead of Edward, I think of Rosalie."

"What—" Before I could even start he threw my wrists down, almost bringing me down with them.

Edward began shaking his head. "Don't you think about anyone besides yourself? Or is it always about you?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked him, absolutely clueless at what he was getting at.

"Don't play coy with me," Edward chuckled sarcastically, brushing his bronze hair back with his fingers. His hand stayed on the side of his head, gripping it, as he looked at the floor.

When he looked back up at me he looked so visibly angry that I knew I couldn't ignore it even if I wanted to.

I tried to muster up all the courage I could so I could stand up to him. "Well maybe I'd know what you meant if you actually told me instead of playing these guessing games!" I yelled at him, louder than I intended. But I was angry at him, thinking he was always right. It was rare when I could even tolerate the very thought of him. I made sure he could hear my mind clearly. He was not fazed. Or he did not hear it.

I heard Edward curse under his breath. "Everything always has to be your way, doesn't it? You're so full of yourself that you're blind to see what other people are doing for you."

"I don't understand you, Edward." I was glaring at him, my fingers curled and my feet pressing deep into the ground. It took everything in me not to pounce on him.

Edward looked into the sky, dark as ever. "Oh, for the love of… why did Esme want to move? Why do you think she wanted to?"

"Because of Carlisle," I said without missing a beat. I still had no idea where he was going with that.

"Think deeper than that, Rosalie."

"Why don't you just tell me then?" I bellowed at him, fuming. He was making me go in circles.

"Esme wanted it for you!" That was the first I heard Edward yell. His eyes were darkened, but still topaz, his brows furrowing deep. His mouth was set into a snarl and he looked more than just angry, he looked like he was pleading. It was all in his eyes.

"How?"

Edward groaned, slamming on fist into a tree and leaning into it. "Are you that daft?"

"_Excuse_ me?"

"She thought it'd be easier for you if you were away from the place that started all of this. So you could start fresh, new, all over again!"

"That's stupid."

Edward shook his head, now disgust written on his face. "She was just looking out for you. You didn't have to be snarky about it," he said, and with that he turned, presumably heading back to the house.

"Oh, _please_," I said, rolling my eyes. Edward did not say anything, probably ignoring me. I watched his figure get further into the darkness, never turning once to look at me.

When Edward didn't stop walking I turned away, heading in the opposite direction before breaking out into a run.

I was heading to Rochester, the place I called home. It was the place I belonged to, and the place I couldn't leave, no matter how much misery came from it.

It was dark out so I knew I wouldn't be spotted easily, and the murders were only a couple of hours ago, so I knew it hadn't spread throughout the town yet.

I walked the entire way, basking in everything as if it were to crumble any minute. As much as I hated the people here, I missed the place. I missed everything about it, and I knew Virginia wouldn't be the same, and that it would never truly be home.

My feet trailed beside buildings and my fingers dragged along the walls, touching everything, wonder clearly evident. It was amazing how something so little that I passed every day would come to mean so much. It almost hurt. It did.

And soon I ended up to the place called home. The house I grew up in and the house I didn't plan on leaving so soon. The lights were on and I wondered what they were doing up so late. I could smell them, all four of them. Their scents—much like their personalities—were all different.

I went to the side of the house. Even with the wall and no windows, I could hear them.

"Oh my word, really?" I heard my mother exclaim, clearly happy about something. Maybe she was glad Royce was dead. I snorted at the thought. Yeah right.

"I start tomorrow afternoon. Richard got the job too, and I think Aaron as well."

_Job?_

"Aaron Moore? Well, I'll be."

I heard my father chuckle. "Yep, apparently some money is coming in. Let's hope it lasts."

My mother giggled and I knew a smile much too wide was on her face. I continued to listen.

"That's great, father," I heard Tom say, and then I heard Nate agree. Their voices broke my heart and I found myself falling onto the floor, sliding against the wall of my house—their house.

"How much do you make, father?" Nate asked, enthusiastic.

My mother interrupted. "That doesn't matter, as long as it's something!"

I heard my father laugh once again. It was the happiest I had ever heard him, but I was not a part of it. "Yes, well, the pay isn't like when I worked at the bank, but it will do."

They continued to talk and I couldn't bear to listen. It was safe to assume what they were talking about now, why they were up so late. Apparently the good news Carlisle had from Virginia was already in New York. And soon, I knew, it would spread throughout America, and it would be as if the Depression never existed.

I didn't even know what the date was today. When I could never sleep, and the fact that I only came out at night that it seemed never-ending, I would lose track of time. What I thought were only a couple of weeks turned out to be a little over a month since I had been a vampire. I spent most of my time in the forest, hunting, and getting used to it. Other times, I would think, and somehow not go insane at the same time.

I forgot that it was the end of December. The cold wind didn't affect me and I couldn't feel it, so I would just continue to simply live not knowing.

I stayed at the side of the house and on the floor, my eyes screwed tight and my hands gripping the front of my shirt in front of my stilled heart. My hair was a mess and my knees were scathed, my cold cheek pressing onto the equally cold wall before me. I didn't know how long I stayed there, but I didn't move even after the voices had ceased and the lights had dimmed. My mother kept talking to my father, even in the dark, her excitement never fading. My brothers were whispering and not as loud, with Nate asking and Tom answering the best he could.

"…Rosalie?" I heard Nate's voice, and my eyes snapped open and I stared along the length of the wall. I picked my feet up and moved to the wall beside my brother's room, my fingers curling into fists as I faced the wall, almost wishing they could see me.

I thought he had called me and that he had seen me somehow, but he didn't. I knew he didn't.

"I don't know," Tom said, and his voice ached. He sounded like he was in pain. "Royce is bad, he sells liquor."

"Isn't it legal?"

"Now. He sold it in November, Rosalie told me. Prohibition wasn't lifted until December."

"What? Rosalie told you?"

I could only assume Tom was nodding. "Rosalie called me… before… she disappeared. She was expecting mother, but… I was there instead. She didn't love him that day, and I knew Royce had something to do with her disappearance."

"How are you sure?"

"He hasn't shown his face in town since she went out that night. He's up to something, and he's probably hitching a ride far away from here as we speak."

I opened my mouth as if to correct them and tell that that Royce was dead, but they didn't know. As far as I knew, only myself and the Cullen's knew that Royce was dead.

"Royce deserves to die, I know he's done something bad," I heard Tom mutter before I heard his sheets rustle, and then Nate's. Then they were silent and I pressed my forehead against the wall, closing my eyes, wishing I could fall asleep with them.

I walked around the house before reaching the front door. I was facing it, but had no urge to knock or make my presence known. I felt for the handle—it was unlocked. I went into the house, keeping the door opened just a bit. It was dark, but I could see clearly. The house smelled of humans. I was not thirsty.

My eyes were somber and I felt heavy, as if I were to fall to the floor any moment. Everything was where it had been last, except the newspaper on the table was of today's date and not of several weeks ago.

I touched the newspaper lightly and traced the date. It took me a moment to register the significance of December 25th, but when I did I almost took the newspaper and tore it to shreds. I breathed in deep and turned away, wanting to focus my attention on something else. The weather was hard to notice when you couldn't feel it.

I passed by my parent's room but didn't go in. I came to the door of my brother's room and it was slightly ajar. I peered in and saw my brother's sleeping, their sheets moving as they breathed in deeply. This was one of the moments I wished I were Edward so I could read their mind, just to know what they were dreaming and if they ever thought about me.

I opened their door wider to step in but was not ready for the creaking noise it made. I jumped up at the sudden noise and watched Tom—he was a heavier sleeper than Nate.

So when it was Nate's voice that rang through the silence I didn't know what to do.

"Rose?" Nate asked, dreary Thank God he was still young, so maybe he would think he was dreaming.

I hesitated before throwing any _rules_ out the window. "Yeah?" I whispered because I didn't have enough strength to say any more.

"Where are you?"

It was only three words, but it was enough to almost kill me. He said them so softly, so oblivious to how much they had an effect on me. And where was I? Did I really belong in Rochester, where pain would come at me every day for the rest of eternity? Or was Edward and Esme right? Did I really need to get away? Human memories hurt, but maybe they were meant to be buried. I would always remember them, even with all of eternity, but maybe I was better off with just that, with just remembrance.

"Far away from here," I said, my voice breaking, and I knew I had made my decision.

"I hope you're doing okay." Nate yawned, rubbing one of his eyes.

A small chuckle escaped my lips, and at that moment I felt almost fine—content, with this final closure.

"I am, please don't worry about me. But don't forget me, either."

Before he could say anything or wake up and realize he wasn't dreaming, I left the room and his door slightly ajar like it was before I had come in. I spent one last time making my way through the house and stopped at the door to my room. It was closed and I hesitated on opening it, not really wanting to know what was there.

In the end, I did open the door, and it was as if I never left. Everything was where it was and I crawled into my bed. I lied there, feeling the soft blanket and closing my eyes, sleep never coming. Every bit of closure I had almost came crashing down. Almost.

I was lost in my own thoughts that I almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching. It was when they were in the room that I noticed, but didn't jump out. I just kept my head on my bed, my eyes lifting up to see the person who had walked into the room.

It was Edward.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered to him.

"Esme's worried about you. Me too, you know."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Why is it hard for you to think someone cares about you?"

"You know why." _Royce._

Our voices were soft and almost delicate and I felt like crying. I didn't care that Edward was in the room anymore.

"Esme was right," I said offhandedly.

"With what?"

I looked up at him for a long moment, my lips barely parting when I said, "I can't stay here anymore."

I sort of expected him to reprimand me, but he didn't. And I knew I needed to stop expecting that because he wasn't that kind of person I had come to know. He knew when to show anger and when to show understanding. It didn't fail even at that very moment.

Even when the words escaped my lips I didn't move. I couldn't move. Edward came closer and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me. He was slightly slouched over and his hand reached out to touch my arm. I didn't recoil.

"Does it get easier?" I asked him, staring off into space.

"It does."

"My parents would have hated you. You aren't rich."

I heard Edward chuckle.

"Then again, I don't know how I would have lasted with you either. It would never work."

"We're better off being just brother and sister then?"

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, seeing his face from the corner of my eyes. "Yeah, I guess. One moment I hate you and the next, you're all right."

Edward chuckled again. I sat up and he stood. And silently, we left the place I called home. But now, it was just a house to me.

"You'll be seventeen forever," Edward said before we reached the edge of town, before we could run.

"Eighteen."

"What?"

"I'm going to be eighteen forever. I died on my birthday, it was just after midnight."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Edward and I walked back for the most part, only running to get through to Vermont. There was only silence passing between us, none of us initiating a conversation. I didn't mind. I liked it that way.

It was probably five in morning when we got back, but I never knew the track of time so for all I knew I could have been way off. For all I knew, all my time spent in Rochester could have added up and it could have even been the next day.

When we got back Edward opened the door and let me in like a gentlemen, and I fixed him with a stare when I entered the house, wary of his sudden kindness. I never thought we'd _get along_, but I was wrong because we clearly were starting to.

As soon as we entered the house I felt cold. The house suddenly seemed barren. Even though I was inside this house more hours than I could count, I never really paid attention to things. But even I knew it seemed quieter, emptier.

"Esme?" I called out, and for a moment thought she was sleeping and that I shouldn't wake her. Funny.

Carlisle came around the corner, catching me by surprise. I hadn't expected to see him here. Why wasn't he in Virginia?

I voiced just that.

"Esme went to Virginia while I packed up the rest of the things here. We didn't have much to begin with and it could all be easily obtained again, but some of it is very sentimental. I'm probably not going to bring the furniture, as our trip would take days on car compared to running."

"Did she call you?"

"Esme? No, why?"

"So you always knew we were going to move to Virginia?"

"Do you not want to, Rosalie?"

"No, it's just—" I turned to Edward.

"I knew you'd change your mind and I told Esme to not call. And you did, so you don't need to be angry," he said, his voice calm and tranquil.

And I wasn't angry.

"How did you know?" I said back to Edward, facing him now, Carlisle forgotten.

"Like I said Rosalie, you're easy to read." Edward didn't hide the laughter in his voice. Carlisle was staring at him, stunned, and I knew why. I glared at Edward but he didn't stop, not afraid. I rolled my eyes and looked back at Carlisle.

"Nothing," I told him, smiling at him as I tried to drop the subject. "When do we leave?"

"Well, I would assume Esme has the house nicely done, albeit empty, so now is okay. You're okay with this, Rosalie?" Carlisle knew me and I knew he wondered whether or not I did fight to stay.

I hesitated briefly, rocking back and forth on my feet. "Yes. I'm ready to move away from Rochester—far, far away. I'm done—my closure is complete." I gave him another tight smile before wringing my hands together.

Carlisle looked behind me at Edward before nodding. "Okay then, I'll see you at Virginia. Here's the address." He handed me a small piece of paper and I didn't recognize the town name. I gave it to Edward and he nodded, but he could have just been faking it. He probably was. He never gave any indication of how smart he was or if he was smart at all.

"You're staying?" Edward asked his father.

"I'm staying for just a little while. I'm letting my patients know, even though most of them already do," Carlisle said and then silence lingered in the air. But for all I knew Carlisle could be telling Edward things he didn't want me to here, and they could have been having an internal one-sided conversation.

"Well then, let's go. I'm eager to leave," I blurted, swinging my arms back and forth before clasping them together in front of my chest. I turned to Edward and gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Lead the way, Edward." I walked past him and grabbed his arm, dragging him to the front of the house. I heard a small chuckle escape Carlisle's mouth before he turned away.

I was gnawing on the bottom corner of my lip, my hand tightening around Edward's arm, pulling him more forcefully.

"I'm sure if I were human you would have torn my arm off." When I ignored him, he continued, "And apparently, you wouldn't care."

"Just hurry up, I can't stay here any longer. And I need a bath—my hair is so…" I shuddered. I couldn't remember the last time I took a bath. I felt dirty. I used to take baths in the evening, but I didn't even know when the evening was anymore.

"Thank God I'm not human. I bet you smell terrible," Edward said, plugging his nose. I let go of him and pushed him—hard. He hadn't been expecting that and stumbled and fell to the ground outside.

I stared at him and smiled.

"If you looked anything like me you'd understand," I said. I stared at him for a moment before nodding. Edward started to laugh.

"Well thank God I don—ow!"

I kicked him on the shin and demanded him to get up. "You and God sure have been close lately. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be your friend though. Now hurry up, I want to go to Virginia."

"So demanding," Edward muttered as he stood up, dusting his pants. Then he turned to me, giving me a half smile—it was slightly crooked. "Make sure you can keep up. I don't want you getting lost in Pennsylvania."

I gave him a dry laugh before I pushed him on the back. Edward stumbled forward and broke out into a run. I followed him.

Edward turned his head constantly, making sure I was following, and every time I gave him a look. It was usually raised eyebrows, making me look expectant—that made him run even faster.

We made a small pit stop at Pennsylvania, which hadn't taken long to even get there. Edward was hungry and since he was the only one who knew where Esme was, I had to abide what he wanted and when he wanted to eat.

We stopped at the Allegheny National Forest and had a quick bite. It wasn't long before it turned into a who could eat the most that was hardly fair because Edward had been doing this longer than I had. It ended with me tackling him and taking his deer, mostly because it was plumper than all the ones I had caught.

When Edward and I got to Virginia, we had to go through towns—meaning, we'd have to walk like a human did for fear of someone seeing our faces as we ran by. I think Edward wanted to look around; he just didn't want to admit it.

Morning was cracking through the sky when we arrived at Appalachia. It was nothing compared to New York—it was worse. The streets were barren and I was pretty sure I saw the same people three times the entire way to the new house. Even though the population was much fewer than New York—and had been something I kind of wanted—I didn't know about it anymore. It was just so empty.

"Virginia… sucks," I said, not bothering to hide my disdain for the state.

We didn't stop walking and Edward turned to me. "This isn't the entire state of Virginia, Rosalie."

I rolled my eyes. "I know _that_, but if Virginia looks anything like… _this_, then I think I made a mistake wanting to move here from Rochester. I'm sure when the Depression is over it'll still look like this. This is like the Depression state all day every day."

"I think you're over exaggerating. Need I remind you that it's very early in the morning, so people are going to be sleeping?"

It wasn't long before we came to a house not much like the others, and off on its own. Those kinds of houses seemed to exist when the Cullen's wanted to move.

The lights were on from the inside and I could hear Esme in them, rearranging furniture.

"Edward?" Esme called when we opened the door.

"And Rosalie. I told you not to worry," Edward said, muttering the last part. Edward sure did mutter a lot. I made sure he heard it. He ignored me.

"Oh," Esme said, completely surprised as she came through a hallway. "I didn't think you both would be here this early." Her voice rang soft and she was staring at Edward.

"Yeah, but I'm here aren't I?" I said, trying to play it off. I shouldn't have cared what she thought—or what any of them thought, but I did.

Esme nodded. "Did you have any trouble getting here? Did you look around? You two should, while the town's quaint and empty."

I looked at Edward with raised brows. Clearly, it was a face that told him I wanted to leave this place instead of being cooped up, maybe even get out of Virginia alone.

"The princess has made up her mind," Edward said all too loudly, and I glared at him. "And she glares," he added, turning to leave the house.

Immediately the glare vanished and was replaced with a frown. I turned back to Esme and saw her stifling her laughter. I wanted to confront her about it but didn't. I didn't think she noticed that I noticed.

"Well," I said simply, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I'll also be in Virginia with Edward, of all people."

"I'll be alright here alone till Carlisle arrives. You two make yourselves comfortable. EVen go to Tennessee if you would like."

I turned to leave but after the words left her mouth I halted and spun around, my hair swinging back and forth from the turn. "If I didn't know any better I would think you wanted me out of the new house, Esme," I said to her, suspicious.

Esme looked at me wide-eyed. "Why would you think that?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned. I was taken aback at her saddness and stared at her for a moment before brushing it off. "Would I lie?"

I shrugged my houlders and turned, hastily leaving the house. Edward was waiting for me and I hadn't expected that, but then again I didn't expect a lot of things when it came to Edward.

"You want to go to Tennessee?" he asked, like he had just heard Esme. Knowing him, he probably had. I for one knew Edward and secrets didn't—couldn't—exist. I learned to watch what I thought around him and letting him hear what he wanted to hear. I had gotten better at that.

"Why?" I asked, even though anything would be better than the Appalachia.

"They have better forests. And I'm hungry."

"You just ate," I said, following behind him.

"A man's got to keep up his strength."

"I would hardly consider you a man, you little boy."

"I'm going to ignore that."

"As you should," I said, crossing my arms as we continued walking.

I expected Edward to break into a run but it never came. Fed up, I sped up and came beside him, glancing at him sideways. He was ignoring me, his face blank, his expression void of emotion. I glared at him but even that went right through him.

Rolling my eyes I started to run, not caring about Edward anymore, but when did I ever? I made it to Tennessee in no time, the forest fairly easy to spot. Unlike Edward, I wasn't hungry at all, the thought of eating slightly nauseating. I smelled a deer not too far but didn't bother to try and find it. I listened carefully for Edward, my patience running thinner than it had been before.

I groaned, walking through the forest and not bothering to hide the scowl on my face at the dirt getting on my legs. The earth was dirty and wet and even though I couldn't feel the cold I hated it. I hated the feeling of dirt and rocks against my shoes, and all the branches and whatever remaining leaves getting caught in my hair.

Despite not wanting to, I kept looking behind me, searching for Edward. I didn't know how long I waited because time seemed to go on forever when you didn't need sleep. My hungry never started, but my patienbce grew thin. I ran my fingers through my hair, catching dirt along the way. I frowned as I stared at it, as if my glare would turn it into ashes. I looked around, trying to find a place to wipe my hands. I ended up just wiping them on my pants, not caring.

"Couldn't hunt without me?" I heard close by, rolling my eyes as he spoke. I turned and crossed my arms, glaring at Edward, regarding him silently. He looked at me expectantly, mimicking my crossed arms. Immediately, my hands fell to my sides and I walked past him. He smelled of animal blood.

"You done killing innocent animals?" I asked, hands on my hips. I swayed my head from side to side and blew the air, completely bored. I almost forgot why I even came out here because I should have known that any place without Edward was better than any place with. And even over a thousand miles away from the new house, Tennessee was no greater than Virginia.

"I need to survive, Rosalie. And I can't help it that you're not hungry."

"Then why'd you bring me here?"

"You brought yourself here."

I shut my mouth and closed my lips together, annoyed. I hit him on his shoulder before pushing him onto one of the trees nearby.

"Whatever, I'm heading back."

From the corner of my eyes I looked at Edward and saw a bit of surprise on his face. There was something more, something I couldn't point out—not that I wanted to know.

"Wait!" I heard Edward shout just as I walked past him.

I groaned and turned, starting to get angry at him. The sight of his face caused the hatred to intensify. "What?" I nearly shouted, throwing my hands in the air.

"Nevermind," he murmured.

Frustrated, I walked up to him, pushing him against the tree again. "No, what? What were you going to say?"

"You know, you've got a bit of an attitude," Edward said, smiling at me. Though his remark was pointless, I knew there was something he was hinting at underneath it. I didn't ask him what because frankly, I didn't care or want to know. Instead, I pushed him against the tree—hard. I slammed his head against the bark and he tried to defend himself—he didn't succeed.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Violence isn't the answer, Rosalie."

"Shut up!" I yelled at him, aiming a punch at him. Before I could blink Edward had moved his head, so my fist collided with one of the trees. Without knowing, it snapped in half. I watched, in horror as it collided with the ground. I jumped back. Even though I should have been used to my strength I wasn't. I looked at my hand and it wasn't bleeding. Where was the blood, the scars? They were supposed to be there. My hand should have broken right off, my skin torn and split. It wasn't. I wasn't human.

I had almost forgotten.

I was so enamoured in my own thoughts that I barely heard the voices coming from within the forest—voices I didn't recognize.

I turned my head, looking for Edward. Wow, that was something I never thought I'd ever say. He was laughing as he backed away, waving at me. "No, Edward! You can't just—Edward!" I whisper-yelled, grabbing the fallen tree with one hand. I would have let go and ran, ran away from the approaching voices, but I knew it was too late. I groaned, and when I heard approaching footsteps I immediately let go of the tree without caring where it landed—my foot. A grunt as loud as the tree hitting the earth emitted from my mouth. It didn't hurt; not really, it just had taken me by surprise.

Soon two pairs of bodies barely came into view and I almost attacked them then and there. I didn't know why I hadn't actually.

Swallowing, all my thoughts about not wanting animal blood had vanished. This scent smelled better than any deer, elk, or bear I had ever eaten. This was human blood: the tempting and forbidden kind of blood. I tried not to move. I felt lethargic, thirsty and I wanted a drink. There was that tiny fear I had inside of me but couldn't identify. It was… guilt. For what? I didn't know. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I rested my back against another tree and watched them. Edward was soon forgotten and I focused all my attention on the humans. I wanted to attack them, let them know not to wander these parts of the forest. I wanted them to feel sorry about being human. I wanted them to be sorry—too bad only half of my mind wanted that and the other half won so I didn't move. I was nervous and I never felt nervous.

A flashlight shone through the darkness and I knew I was trapped. Not only was the tree on my foot preventing me from running, the person behind the light had seen me and if whatever town in Tennessee was as small and empty as Appalachia, I couldn't let myself be seen there. And I wouldn't be stuck in Virginia forever.

"It came from here Russ!" a voice practically yelled, deep and masculine, snapping me from my reverie—or lack thereof.

Frozen in place, I looked for a place to hide. The trees were too thin and they'd see me. I heard the shuffling of feet against the leaves and was about to break into a run but what was said next stopped me—well, besides the tree on my foot that I could easily lift.

"It was probably just a deer, Em," someone else said—their voice deeper, more masculine.

Yeah right.

And then I saw him.

Only one of the two boys came into my view, looking no older than twenty-five. He was probably Russ and he smelt heavenly. Looking at Russ with his dark hair, slick and clean shaven look, I wanted to drink from him so badly. My thirst for a human was so bad that I didn't. If that made sense. It probably didn't.

Following close behind Russ came another boy, much younger, but his age didn't look too far off from his brother's. It was Em. What kind of name was that anyways? What happened to Michael, Adam and Henry? Was Em short for something? The only name I could think of was Emma. Did his parents feel special for giving him such a stupid name like Em? And what about Russ, was that short for something? I drew a blank trying to think of a name.

I smelt the new scent and closed my eyes, concentrating. He smelled so sweet.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, giving the person who I couldn't see because of the light a too big of a smile, nervous.

I could smell them, humans.

"Uh, hi. Guess it wasn't a deer. D'you need help?" The older boy—Russ—said from behind his brother. He was squinting his eyes through the darkness, trying to see me.

"No," I said quickly, nervous for the first time in my life. "Go back to sleep, or whatever."

"We were just lookin' at the stars tonight. And are you sure? That tree's pretty heavy and I don't know if you could lift it up yourself," the man said, shining the light on my foot. Now emitted in darkness I could see his face.

His hair was tousled and turned and greasy, his skin light and smooth, yet dirty and rough around the edges at the same time. His eyes were bright, and his smile was small. He had slightly curled hair and was wearing raggedy clothes and when he smiled there were dimples on his cheeks. It was such a contrast to his tall and burly figure. It reminded me of Henry.

Em—who was holding the flashlight—shone the light on my face. I probably looked dirty and tired and a million other things I didn't ever want to think about. I looked behind the light and to Em, only to see his eyes were wide and his mouth agape. I turned to his brother and he had an almost identical expression.

"What?" I asked both of them, confused at the look on their faces. "Why are you staring? It's rude," I remarked, staring hard at them.

They both flinched, Em looking surprised. "Oh! Uh, well, you know it'd be no problem to help you," Em said, a big smile forming on his face, as if he were excited about something. I didn't know what it was—if there was anything to be excited about when all there was were trees.

Before I could tell him no again—because I was almost going to—he walked over and silently handed me the flashlight to hold. Giving up, I decided to and with one loud grunt he lifted the tree and I quickly moved my foot away. He was strong—for a human.

Now that I was closer I could see more of him—not that I couldn't before. Em was looking around and there was a grin on his face now. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He was much taller than his brother and much more muscular. He smelled of dirt and temptation. He was better than any human I had ever smelled on a passing.

His eyes went down and back up and I furrowed my brows at him. When he met my eyes surprise emitted his face once again and I almost rolled my eyes. I didn't know why I didn't. "Thanks," I muttered, unsure of what else to say. I turned to leave and his grin vanished. He tried to stop me by reaching for my arm, touching it and wanting to bring me back. I snapped. Swiftly I turned my head, my hair whipping past me as my hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, twisting it.

"Don't touch me," I whispered venomously at him, not even sure if he could hear me. He was yelling as I said it too so his own voice most likely overlapped mine. And all I did was continue to glare at him as he screamed.

"Stop, stop, stop!" he pleaded. His brother's voice soon joined him too and when I looked back at Em his face was twisted in pain, his mouth wide open. Was I that strong? Was I really hurting him? It was as if I touched fire and I immediately let him go. I knew he hadn't been expecting me to let go that easily because he fell to the floor.

He was quiet for a moment and I took one step behind me, suddenly wary. I shouldn't have been—I was inhuman.

But what he said surprised me. His voice was calm, almost laughing. "Damn, you got some grip," he said from the floor, his face out of view. Then, surprising me, he actually started to laugh. He really, really did.

I was puzzled. I expected him to lash out, even try to fight back. I expected his brother to have tried to too, to yell or scream or shout. I sure would have, and he just let it go. I eyed him even more warily than before, confused.

He stood up straight and began to shake his arm. "I think that's going to leave a mark," he said, looking up at me. I didn't answer him, just continued to stare. "You alright? It looks like you just saw a ghost."

I looked away from his stare and onto his arm. It was read and looked swollen. He started to laugh again. "Guess it was my fault, surprising you and all—in the dark too." He was scratching the back of his head and had a sheepish smile on his face.

I regarded him for a moment before shaking my head. "Um, well, I'll be going now," I announced, turning only slightly. My eyes went to Em's hand and when I saw that it was still, continued to walk away. He laughed again. Did he ever stop?

Apparently, he didn't want to let it go. "Wait! Now what's a pretty little thing like you doing out here?" he wondered, asking me the question I should have asked him—not the one of him being a pretty little thing.

I lifted one brow at the term little, even though he could hardly see it. Not wanting to answer I ignored him.

"What are _you _doing out here?" I asked, hardly curious about it at all.

"Camping," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"In December?"

"Weather is just one of the obstacles that get in the way. It's just another challenge. Eh, no big deal. I go every weekend."

I nodded at him. "Okay. Well… have fun." I turned to leave again, quicker that time, so he couldn't catch me.

"Wait! Why are you alone? There're wild animals and you could get hurt if you aren't careful." Now it was as if he were picking sraws, trying to keep a conversation going, not wanting me to leave. Too bad I didn't want to play along.

"My stupid brother left me here, and the animals are just a chance I'm willing to take," I voiced bluntly, and before he could say anything more I turned and ran off, leaving him behind me. All I knew was that Edward and the ground would be getting real friendly tonight.

"Wait! What's your name?" Em hollered after me. When I didn't answer I heard him sigh before yelling once more, laughter and easiness laced in his voice, "Bye, beautiful!"

My teeth grazed my bottom lip as I tried to ignore him, focusing on getting back to the Appalachia.

_Oh Henry, you've still managed to find me._

* * *

When I got back to the house I threw the door open, surprised that it hadn't broken off. I didn't even bother shutting it as I ran through the house, finding Edward sitting on his piano bench. I all but flew over the piano and tackled Edward to the ground before pulling him back on his feet by his suspenders. Since I was just as tall as him it was not by much, but it was enough to have him squirming. He was staring at me with a blank face, but I knew there was something going on in that head of his.

"If I had attacked them you would have been guilty. And then you would have to live all of eternity guilty at what I had done!" I yelled at him, attempting to throw his body onto the floor. He was stronger than I thought and didn't budge.

I almost didn't notice Esme walking into the room, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. "Rosalie, there you are."

I was so focused on glaring at Edward that I ignored Esme. Edward tried to pry my fingers off of him, but when he caught my glare he dropped his hands. "Yes, but it will all be forgotten with this Christmas surprise," he said languidly, trying to ease the tension of this situation. I wasn't eased.

"You left me with _humans_ to surprise me?" I bellowed, bringing my face closer to his.

From the corner of my eyes I saw Esme snapped her head to Edward. "What?"

I turned to her and nodded, a sarcastic smile on my face. "Yeah, he did."

"No blood, no foul. Let's put that behind us," Edward started, putting both of his hands on my wrist.

I pulled away from his hold before latching my hands back on his suspenders. "Edward, I will _kill _you—" I began, pulling his suspender further down, but as soon as I opened my mouth he was already moving and almost flew out of the room. I groaned and yelled after him before chasing him down.

He managed to go all the way behind the house before I caught up to him. I grabbed onto his arm but when he didn't turn his head I soon followed his line of sight. My jaw dropped and my grip on his arm loosened.

"Even as a vampire I can still feel that," Edward murmured, but I didn't pay any attention to him. I shoved Edward out of the way even tough he wasn't in my way and stared.

"A car? You got me a car?" I was baffled. My parents hand't owned a car—they had sold it—and as far as I knew neither had Royce. I'd seen pictures of them or that one or two odd cars pass by among the peole walking on the dirt roads, but never had I seen one so close and clean. I tried to keep my thoughts intact as I stared at the car.

"Edward did," Esme said from behind me, and I turned to look at her, acknowledging her for the first time since I entered the house.

I glanced at Edward who nodded. I began shaking my head. "No, no, no, no, no... Edwar doesn't buy cars for other people."

"If you would pay attention, I'm actually a nice guy." I tried not to laugh.

"Esme, does Edward own a car?"

She shook her head, lost at where I was going with this.

I turned back to Edward

"So Edward, what you're saying is that you got yourself a car, but gave it to me for _Christmas_ even though you know I know nothing about them?"

Esme gave Edward a look.

"Why didn't you just buy your own?" I asked, completely baffled.

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes. "The Depression just ended and if I bought two cars people would get suspicious. And I got you a car as a gift, and I would expect you to appreciate it."

"Well it's nice… but what is it?"

"A Buick."

I nodded, looking back at the car. "It's not that pretty."

"It's a Buick."

"It looks more like a show car than one you drive."

"It's a Buick."

"So?"

"It—never mind. I give up," Edward said, turning to Esme, "Rosalie sure is... something," he finished, all too dramatically before making in exit.

I smiled sarcastically after him and when Edward was out of sight, but still could hear us, I said to Esme, "I know what a Buick is, though a Cadillac would have been better. I just like seeing Edward angry because he deserves it all."

Esme smiled, either oblivious or a very good actress. "You two are getting along well."

"Mhmm." I paused, turning my head and stared off into the distance. "Strange, though."

"If you ever need help fixing the car, Edward is the expert, and Carlisle only knows a… sufficient amount," Esme voiced out, giving me a sympathetic smile.

It soon dawned on me at what she was implying. "So I'm guessing I'll have to ask Edward about this." Esme nodded. "Nate liked cars, but he only had pictures of them. I'll figure it out—it can't be that hard. Besides, I have nothing to do anyways."


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

True to my word, I spent most of my time with my new Buick. It wasn't brand new per se, but it was as new as it could get during the last days of the Depression. Edward had told me that I couldn't drive it unless I repaired the engine. It was a four door sedan—Edward's quotation, not mine—painted red. There were no broken windows or broken lights. Esme had explained that the only reason someone was selling it was because he needed the money, and that they had a hard time parting with their vehicle. I rolled my eyes—men and their cars.

Perched on top of the car was a manual that came along with it, and some tools on the ground. I assumed it was to fix the car. I expected Edward to have wanted to do it, but Esme explained that Edward was busy, and thought I'd like to occupy my time with it. Basically, they thought I needed a hobby. I told her just that and she looked slightly offended, but a smile came onto her face and said she'd thought it be nice but if I didn't want it I could give it back to Edward.

Of course I felt almost guilty at was Esme could do and told her I appreciated it. Had I not known any better, I'd think Edward actually cared about my well being. When she left the room it was just myself and the car. I stared at it for a moment, my finger tapping my chin and my teeth biting my lower lip. Great, I'd have to read the manual because it wasn't coming to me on what I had to do.

I strode over lazily, picking up the too-thick-to-be-considered-a-manual manual and thumbed through the pages, text filling up most of the pages. I turned to the open door and was able to see a window—it was dark out. As much as I wanted to sleep I couldn't, and as much as I didn't want to remind myself that sleep was impossible I did. Sighing, I turned to the first page and thought I'd finally be able to get to sleep just reading the words. I never did.

I sat on the floor between the car and the tools, crossing my legs and stared at the first page. I was reading the words but they weren't registering in my head. Fixing the car would be impossible. Maybe I could get Edward to do it.

Edward decided to stroll in at that moment. From the floor I looked up at him questioningly and he tried to pluck the manual from my hands. I decided not to let go and pulled it forward, causing Edward to almost fall on to of me. He managed to regain his composure and stared at me just as questioningly as I had to him.

"I thought it was too hard for you?" Edward asked me, folding his arms together.

"I didn't say anything."

He tapped his head.

I looked at him disgustingly. "Have you ever heard of privacy?" I sneered, raising my brows.

"So you're admitting you don't understand it," he said, trying to deter the question.

"Of course I don't, that's why I'm reading it," I answered, emphasizing myself when I turned to the second page and brought the manual up to eye level. It was also my sign of telling him to leave, and just in case he didn't understand it, I practically screamed in my head for him to leave.

When he did I combed my fingertips through my hair and rested my chin on my hand. I frowned and looked at the book I had placed on the floor, open at the now second page. Cars couldn't be _that _hard. Flipping back to the first page I began to read. No matter how bored I got I endured—I wouldn't let Edward think I was giving up. He didn't need any more pride in himself.

Twenty pages later I finally got to the engine and leaned close, suddenly interested. I turned to the tools beside me and emptied them from the box, scattering them on the floor. The instructions weren't as straight-forward as I expected, but I didn't ever think about going in and asking. I picked up one of the tools and looked at the car. It couldn't be _that_ hard.

* * *

Morning broke when I thought I was done for the fifth time. I was on the ground and my hair was a mess and my skin was tainted, but I didn't care. I prayed to whatever was out there that the engine was fixed—the first four proved to be nothing but uneventful. Esme had come and offered whatever help but I politely declined. When I tried to fix the engine the second time I got into it, but after the fourth I was completely done with it.

Laying on the floor for a while, I closed my eyes and prayed. When I was done I stood up and opened the door to the car. Careful not to get the interior dirty, I started the engine. One... two... three...

The car roared with life. Surprised, my eyes went wide before I started screaming, overjoyed. I got out of the car and stretched my arms over the hood, as if hugging it.

I heard Esme rush into the room completely frazzled, her eyes wide. I stared at her before her eyes landed on mine. Her mouth was slightly parted.

"What happened?" Esme almost yelled.

I had to bite my lip from laughing at her, but even that couldn't contain it, and soon a small giggle escaped my lips. "I fixed it," I said enthusiastically. I looked around the room. "Where's Edward? He needs to know he's wrong about me fixing this car."

"He didn't say anything? He's in Tennessee."

That caught me by surprise. "How come?" I asked, curious.

"Apparently a family is selling their Bentley and he's interested in it. I doubt he's going to get it though."

"Why?"

"He's more interested in the new... Phantom.... Rolls.... something," she laughed, amused at her own lack of knowledge about cars.

I sighed. "Men and their cars."

She laughed at my expression and walked over to me, putting one hand on the hood. "How's it going so far?"

"I'm done with the engine so now I just need to clean it up."

Esme gave me a smile that reached her eyes before taking one last look at the car and leaving the room.

I distantly heard her pick up the phone.

* * *

I finished washing my Buick and wiped my forehead even though I hadn't been sweating. My hair was dirty and grimy and tied back, but a couple of tendrils had managed to fall in front of my face. Letting a sigh, I blew my blond hair only to have it fall back against my cheek. I leaned back against the wall, admiring my car. It was red and shiny and absolutely beautiful—just like me. It was ready to drive, granted, I didn't know how so I couldn't even move out of the spot it had been situated in for who knew how long. How Edward managed to actually get it here was a mystery itself.

It was that moment that I had thought about him that he walked into the room. I recognized the smell of him immediately, and a scowl appeared on my face. I rolled my eyes and said, "What Edward? Thought I couldn't do it?" I said to him. When I turned around he had placed something on the hood of my car—a book—before crossing his arms in front of him.

"I never doubted you," he started. Yeah right. He must have read my mind because he stared at me expectantly and all I gave him was a tight lipped smile.

There was a good amount of silence in the air—Esme's footsteps could be heard in the other room. "Esme said you were looking at Bentley's."

"I plan on getting a different car though."

"Oh?" I prompted.

At that moment Esme came into the room, walking as if she were on clouds, so lightly, so delicately. "Rosalie? We're about to go hunting, would you like to come?"

"No," I said without hesitation, shaking my head, "my car needs to be cleaned."

Edward stared at me quizzically and Esme smiled with her teeth before turning to Edward. Edward, still slightly stunned turned to Esme and said, "Rosalie and cars... something I never thought I'd see together?"

I stared at him with raised brows. "And why is that?"

Esme, sensing the tension in the air, took a hold of Edward's arm and interjected, "We're going to leave now," she pressed on. "Rosalie, Carlisle should be here soon. He called me to say he's almost finished in Rochester."

I nodded in understanding and watched them leave before turning back to my car. But before I could pick up the cloth I had dampened earlier, Edward's book caught my eye. It was fairly new, slightly worn out like it had been read through once and only once. I could smell the paper and I walked over to it. I flipped through it and saw it was a manual, but it was different than the one for the Buick. Curious, I flipped it over and read the title: Rolls-Royce Phantom II. That must have been the car Esme was talking about, the one Edward wanted. The picture of the car was on the next page and it was funny, I expected Edward to be more conservative, not as showy as the car he wanted was.

I stared at the car for a while and bit the corner of my mouth, one of my hands curling into a fist. My eyes squinted and I shut my eyes for a moment. My other hand was on the hood of the car, pushing against it. Immediately I reeled it back, knowing I would have left a good sized dent if I hadn't.

I picked up the book and threw it against the wall with much more force than I thought I could do because the _paper_ book managed to create a small crack on the wall. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. And I didn't have to—because I was a vampire—but it was so much more than that. At that moment oxygen was vital to me and I felt as if I were suffocating. My throat closed in and my eyes hurt. My stomach was twisted and I felt as if I were sinking onto the floor.

I wanted to scream. I stared at my car and flung open the door, surprised the door stayed in tact. I went inside and sat down, trying to calm my breathing.

I didn't know what to think of the Cullen's. They made me forget about everything bad that had ever happened to me, made me think it was all just a nightmare. Since I had moved to the Appalachia, not once had Royce crossed my mind. It wasn't until I was brutally reminded of his name through a _car_ that everything suddenly came crashing down.

At first I had a hard time finding that he was actually real. I had forgotten so much, had not thought about him _once_ in what seemed like forever, but so easily and effortlessly and without even knowing, he had come back into my life to haunt me once again. For as long as I lived immortally, I knew I would never forget him, even if he was dead.

I pressed my lips tightly together so I wouldn't cry out, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing me if he was currently burning in the bottom pits of Hell. My fists were closed tightly and my stomach started to ache. My chest hurt and I knew tears wouldn't come—it was impossible—but the pains never ceased. I couldn't escape them.

One side of me was glad Esme and Edward were gone. The other part, wished they weren't—well, Esme at least.

I curled against the comfortable seats of the car, resting my head against the leather interior. My breathing grew rapid and my arms wrapped around myself. I closed my eyes trying to will all the what I thought were faded memories away, shaking my head.

His voice was as clear as day.

"_Did you miss me, Rosie?"_ he would say.

"That's not my name," I whispered out, hating the little nickname he had given me.

"_I can call you whatever I want."_

"No, you can't." Yes, he could.

It was like he could read my mind and I heard him laughing, his laughter playing against my cries, as if it fuelled him. I flinched at the sound of his voice and put my arms over my head. I couldn't hold my lips shut anymore and breathed out, groaning, as if I were in pain. And I was, I hurt all over—emotionally, physically... I probably looked like I wreck.

Every piece of him came running at me, screaming. For the days I had not thought about him, it all came with much more force, making it even more painful to think about him than it had been before. It had never hurt this much.

And suddenly, I was afraid. Every brouhaha with Edward was like it never existed, every moment with Esme suddenly vanished. Royce made me put up walls and the sound of his name from my lips or in my head killed me and hurt me more than when Carlisle had changed me.

Darkness soon turned into a very scary thing and I snapped my eyes open, needing the light. I was still laying on my side and stared at the wheel of the car, trying to even my breathing. I couldn't.

Every touch, push, pull, kiss, breathe... every word said, thought, whispered... every friend of his... the touch, taste, smell... the dying, the transformation, the immortality....

My fingers splayed across the seats and I pushed into them, pressing my cheek against it too. I was breathing heavily as if I had ran a marathon, my lungs about to explode and my insides about to convulse. The pressure was overwhelming and I knew I was out of control. What was happening was something that couldn't be read in books—it was stronger, more difficult, more misunderstood.

I felt like I was on fire and my head was pounding, along with the rest of my body. I drifted out of the Appalachia, out of America, out of the world. I was lost, somewhere else, and I welcomed it. A part of me hoped I really was dying, that vampires _could_ die, and I would be leaving this place. I didn't need it, I didn't want it (anymore)—I was done, spent, broken, used. I was tired, barely breathing, only half awake, only half there. My eyes saw nothing and I felt nothing. I was just—

My muscles were stiff and I couldn't move. My arms were immobile and I felt something brush against my cheek and run along my back. I felt tenderness and suddenly more fragile than ever. I heard a voice that I knew I had heard before, the first words I had heard when I thought I was dying for the first time. Now that it was the second time, it was like a deja vu.

"Shhh," a soft voice whispered and at that moment I knew it wasn't Royce.

"Carlisle?" I could barely call out.

"Yes?" he answered and I almost sighed in relief.

"_He can__'t protect you forever.__"_ I heard.

Moaning, I grabbed onto his arms and tried to push him away, I needed to get away from Royce. All he was doing was disguising himself, trying to trick me. I couldn't fall into his trap again, but I already was.

He didn't let go. I got more violent. He held on.

"Rosalie, it's okay, it's Carlisle."

"_Rosie, you__'re so beautiful.__"_

"No," I choked out, "please get away from me," I sobbed, completely unaware and not caring how frazzled I may have looked.

I felt the arms release themselves from their tight hold and hands grasping the side of my face. I tried to pull away but he kept holding onto my head. My eyes were closed and no matter how much I struggled, he didn't let go.

"_Open your eyes Rosie,"_

"No," I stammered.

"Rosalie."

"_Rosie."_

Get out of my head Royce, get out of my head.

"Rosalie."

"_Rosie."_

"No!" I yelled out, opening my eyes and coming face-to-face with a blond haired, soft faced, vampire.

It was Carlisle. My eyes were wide, my mouth wide open, and his hands on the scalp of my head, touching my hair, the only thing holding me up from collapsing onto the floor. His eyes were as wide as mine, his mouth slightly parted.

I closed my eyes and turned away. I was not beautiful, I was just Rosalie.

"_Bye beautiful,"_ Em had said. And soon, humans became a scary thought as well. No matter how much stronger than humans I was, I knew if they tried hard enough, they could have me at their mercy. The reason I died was because of Royce, because of how beautiful he thought I was. And that was all I had. I wasn't smart or funny, I was just beautiful, that was what my parents had told me, what they doted me on. It was all I ever lived for. Even as a vampire I spent time on how I dressed and on my hair. It was all I had left. It's what got me killed.

And I wondered, if beauty was all I had to offer, would love ever find itself real and everlasting?

"Shh," Carlisle soothed, smoothing out the harsh lines I had created.

I fell into his arms willingly, trusting the man who had changed me without killing me. I trusted the man who Esme thought highly of, who had been nothing but _nice_. I would trust him, because he was all I had at that moment and I needed someone—no matter how much it killed me to be held.

We stayed like that for a while, until I could breathe again and until I could think evenly. I pressed my cheek onto his shoulder and he said, "I had come from Rochester and heard you. Are you alright now?"

"Almost."

"I'm here, and Esme and Edward too."

"They're hunting."

"They'll be back."

"I know." And I really did. I _trusted _them, I actually did. I didn't know how they did it, but they did. Even Edward—he was someone I'd rather spend days with that just a couple with a human. I wouldn't let him know that. I knew he could probably tell.

"I just want to forget about him."

He pulled me closer.

"Is there really someone out there for me?"

"Yes."

I pondered for a moment before saying, "Is there really somewhere out there_ like me_?"

He didn't say anything and I knew he didn't have a positive answer. That was him, Carlisle: he couldn't lie. That wasn't in his, Esme, or Edward's non-existent blood.

Carlisle tried to change topics. I didn't know if his topic of choice was any better, however, but at least he was trying. "When I first changed you, you were meant to be a companion... to Edward."

I let out a breath. "We're just... we're just—we don't even... we can't stay in a room without fighting."

"Like brother and sister?"

I pulled my lips together and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that." My cheek was still on his shoulders and my words came out in faint whispers, my eyes only half lidded. I didn't know what to think as to how vulnerable I was showing myself to him.

And the thought of Edward and I as brother and sister—how we were perceived by Carlisle and Esme... maybe I was meant to be alone, living in solitude away from the rest of the world. I would only be associated with my _kind_, but I didn't even know how many of us there were. No one else saw the beauty I used to see, not after him. Maybe my beauty was now gone, maybe it had vanished when my life had been taken away.

All that I had was my beauty and even now that meant nothing, so I was nothing. It was all I had and all I needed and it was now gone, washed away. Even when I was human Edward had not spared me a second glance, and even as a vampire he never looked me the way other men used to. Neither Carlisle, and it didn't matter that he was married because when I was human married men would also look my way.

I wasn't at all attracted to Edward, just like all the other men from my human life. I just didn't catch eyes like I used to. My beauty was dwindling—had dwindled—so fast that I had nothing else to live for. I was supposed to turn him down, not the other way around.

Was I beautiful? It was the only reason he and his friends had attacked me. It was gone—my beauty was gone, lasting only a short eighteen years.

I wasn't aware of Carlisle calling my name until I finished my thought. He was still there. I knew the Cullen's would be the only constant in my life, not when everyone else was human. I didn't know what to think of that.

"Carlisle... did you really want to save me—without... the thought of Edward crossing your mind?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Yes. You weren't ready to leave the world, no matter how much you try and convince yourself, I won't let you."

"Are you still going to be around? Or are you going to never be here like in Rochester?"

"I'll be here. Appalachia is much smaller than Rochester, and this time I get to actually work in a hospital. I wouldn't have to save everyone anymore, there are more doctors here for that too."

I smiled faintly. He didn't notice. And whether I acknowledged it or not, I missed him. His presence was scarce at the Cullen household, and even with Esme and Edward around, it still managed to feel emptier without him. Esme was the mother I never had and Carlisle... he was the father I never had.

I sniffed, emotionally undressed. I knew Carlisle didn't know the right things to say, or what to say at all. I didn't mind. The silence was comforting, for the first time.

Soon after Carlisle let me go. "You done fixing the car?" he asked, changing the subject.

I turned my head and looked at it. I nodded. "Yeah. Strange, because I hated it at first but now that it's over, I kind of want to do it all over again."

"Edward likes cars so you should be expecting a lot sometime soon." He nodded towards the lone Buick and looked at me expectantly. I gave a small smile and a silent laugh. I hadn't eaten in nearly a day.

Was I beautiful?

"I'm going to go hunting," I concluded, standing up. We had been near a wall on the floor, and the car door was wide open. I walked to it and shut it, pursing my lips and turning towards Carlisle. He didn't look offended, just anything but. He stood up and put a hand on my shoulder.

At that moment I knew Esme and Edward were close by, there scent suddenly wafting in the air.

"Perfect timing," I said, mildly sarcastic. Carlisle only laughed. I went to the door, but before I left the room I paused, turned my head, and said to Carlisle, "And tell him to get the Bentley."

"What?"

"Edward said he wanted to Rolls-Royce. Tell him to get the Bently."

Realization dawned into his eyes but he didn't say anything.

He let out a small smile, his eyes glowing. "I'll tell him."

My mouth felt dry and I didn't know what to say. I knew then and there that no matter what kind of front I put up I would be unsatisfied. I didn't know if I'd ever adapt or be happy with the way I was—_un_beautiful and just another face in the fading crowd. I would be forgotten and never known—humans would never know of my existence anymore. I was fading fast, and falling slowly.

_Bye beautiful_, he had said to me.

Was I beautiful? Was I still beautiful in his eyes? I needed to know, to know that at least one person still had me embedded in their mind and that I was still that girl etched in their brain. I had to be the girl that caused people to stop and stare—I needed the reassurance. Was I beautiful?

I needed to gauge his reaction because I had fled before I could have seen. I hated that I had done that. The question was gnawing at me, and I had to know. I needed to know what they—he—would say. I wanted to see what they were like. I had forgotten what it was to be human because I was not one anymore. Just once. It could just hurt me in the end but I needed to risk it. What did I have to lose?

They had to be there. They were still camping, weren't they?


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

I breathed in and out as I walked around the forests in Tennessee. I was shaking my hands in front of me in a sad attempt to calm myself. I was relieved when I could smell Edward and Esme coming, just so I could get some fresh air without Carlisle. I didn't have a problem with him—he was the father I didn't have. I just... couldn't be alone with him for too long, no matter how much I trusted him. And as much as I hated to admit it, I trusted Edward more than him. I didn't want to, but whenever I was around Edward I was more relaxed and more at ease and not afraid to curse him.

Okay, that was enough thinking about Edward for today. I paced outside of the forest, trying to collect my jumbled thoughts. My head was a mess as I tried to push Royce out of my mind. It was impossible, I knew. I would never forget. And even though the worst was over, Rochester was nothing but a memory. It was nothing but a haunting memory. I put my hands on my hips and glanced inside the forest. I could hear the animals. I bit my bottom lip, more thirsty than ever. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

Pulling the elastic band from my hair I retied it, a few pieces sticking out, refusing to be held together. Taking small steps for someone of my inhuman capability, I suddenly broke into a sprint. I wanted to get tired and let my lungs burn, I wanted to stop running as I ran for my life, but it never happened. I was never tired, but I wanted to be. I didn't want this. I didn't want the speed, the power, the immortality… I didn't want any of it. But no matter how much negative and ill feeling I had towards what I now was, I knew it would never go away. I had to accept it—accept my immortality. I slowly, but surely, was—I just didn't know how long it would take.

Getting married, having a child, being in love… that was heaven. It wasn't much, but it was everything to me. It was everything, everything that just got taken away by a stupid man and his stupid drunk friends—

I stopped. _Breathe, Rosalie_. I couldn't let him take over. I couldn't depend on Carlisle—or anyone. I was here to hunt, and that was what I was going to do.

Sniffing, I smelt blood. My head snapped up towards the sky. I smiled and licked my lips. But the second it came the second it disappeared. Drinking blood didn't make me a human. It made me an animal. I curled my fists, my nails digging into my palm. I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything.

I was angry. I couldn't feel, I couldn't smell, I couldn't taste…

I was a vampire. _You have to accept it Rosalie, it's over and done__—you__'re a vampire now._

Ever since I thought about Royce everything I had forgotten about came rushing back. And I knew I could never forget them, but I knew I had to make sure they didn't take over my life. I didn't want to spend all of eternity wallowing in my immortality. I accepted that much, at least.

Okay, okay. I was okay.

Still running, I spotted a deer to my left and swiftly turned and jumped in the air, bringing it down to the cold earth. I curled my fingernails on the soft flesh of the deer, tearing it to shreds with my hands and teeth. It whined, but I ignored it. The taste was so good, especially since I was really hungry. When I was done I dropped my head back, staring to the sky and savouring the taste.

I managed to catch three more deers quickly, my teeth grazing their coat of fur before sinking into their skin. I was able to drink them both hungrily and cleanly, not a drop getting on my clothes or chin. When I was done there were three helpless and dead deers surrounding me, dry of blood inside of them. I rolled my neck and pulled my lips over my teeth, satisfied.

That was, until I smelled something even sweeter than what I just consumed.

I could smell that delicious scent and sniffed it for a while before realizing that it was probably human blood. It was nothing like the animals the Cullen's and I ate. It was nothing like the animals I smelled. The smell was so sharp and so lovely that I wanted to cry but couldn't. Not that I couldn't drink from them—I wouldn't.

Soon enough the distinctive smell began to dawn upon me. It was Em's. It was easier to find him than I thought, but they were still camping and this was the place I had seen them before. However, I was closer to their campsite than yesterday, for I saw all their gear lying around, a bunch of wood in the center where I assumed a fire had been burning, even with the cold air surrounding them. Despite the cold month it was, snow still hadn't appeared and it was still relatively warm. Well, warm enough so any source of water still hadn't iced. I think swimming was still possible. I didn't know. Weather was strange.

Staring past the campsite I saw Em. He was standing there, and so was Russ, as well as two other boys.

I crept close to them, careful not to make a noise. I saw them, only tiny figures, but stayed back. I rested my back against the tree and watched them—watched the man who called me beautiful. At least he appreciated my beauty. Biting my bottom lip I leaned against one of the thinner trees, both of my palms pressed against the sharp bark. As they moved I leaned in closer, trying to get a good close view of them.

I was so into just staring that I hadn't noticed how hard I pressed into the tree until it came crashing down. I stared at the tree for a moment before glaring at it. All the trees in the forest seemed to hate me—falling down at the wrong times.

Almost immediately after I realized what I had done, I hid behind another tree and counted a couple of seconds before carefully peering around it. All four boys had heard the noise and were looking my way. Well, not my way, but in the general direction. Quickly, I turned my head back so they couldn't see me, just in case one of them decided to glance my way. After a few seconds passed I looked back around and that time only Em was looking, staring at the fallen tree. I kept still and waited for him to notice me but he didn't. I kept staring at him as if I wanted him to look at me. It was like I was sending him a signal, where people get that funny feeling someone was watching them that made them turn around. I didn't stop staring. He didn't notice.

I wasn't breathing then—not that I needed to, but it was something I realized I was doing.

I didn't move and waited for him to leave. Instead, he walked closer to the tree I had just knocked over. He was so close to me, only a couple of feet away to my left. I could smell him and his friends—I had to hold my breath. Em lasted longer than I thought he would, staring at the fallen tree and the stump.

He was counting the rings.

"Four years old. It shouldn't have fallen because it's still young, but I guess you can't be sure about any of the trees here," he said to himself. He whistled and I didn't understand what was so great about that. I would've asked him, but I was a vampire and he was a human. A very tasty one too.

I wanted to drink from him—I really, really did. I didn't though and he looked up towards the sky and for a moment I was worried he'd glance around and see me or sense me or just feel that I was there. I shouldn't have been but I was. I saw his eyes but they were looking away. They were dark and his hair was darker and messy like he didn't care. He should though. Vampires could eat him.

I scanned the rest of him and saw his hands—they looked rough but smooth at the same time. I always had a thing for hands. His looked large and I immediately found myself looking at my own. Mine were lithe and thin—made for playing the piano, of course. Playing the piano made me come to peace, I guess. Em's hands looked like they could crush mine, even though mine were nearly unbreakable. If I were human.

Human.

He was human.

And yet, I couldn't reach out to him. I couldn't kill him. It was probably the fact that he was the first human I'd seen in months, that I had a different view on them now. Them. Humans. A different kind of species. They were almost alien to me now.

I would have stayed watching him had it not been for the yelling from the distance that snapped me from my thoughts. It was Russ.

"Emmett, why the hell are you still there? We're going to the lake! I'm surprised it hasn't snowed yet, so let's take advantage of this odd warm weather!" he yelled, his other nameless—friends?—looking on.

He looked around one last time and laughed to himself before turning and going back to Russ and the other humans I could smell.

When he was gone I came away from the tree, careful not to make too much of a noise. I went to the stump and crouched down, noticing that his scent still lingered in the air. I looked back to where he had left and could faintly hear the sound of his, what I assumed, friends. His human friends.

It was unbearable. I couldn't take it so I didn't stay near the tree long, just long enough to remember his scent. He smelled of everything I needed. Just the smell of humans made me blood drunk.

Emmett. So that was his name. It was much better than Em.

* * *

I had followed them to the lake and I didn't know why. I couldn't leave him alone—the man who called me beautiful, the only man to call me beautiful since my transformation. They were bathing in the lake that hadn't iced, in the weather that wasn't cold, I assumed, laughing all the while. I was far away to be seen by the human eye, but I could still see and hear them from where I stood. Had I been human still I wouldn't have given them a second though, but now that I wasn't the whole different _race_ intrigued me. I think it was because I just didn't want to ever forget where I had come from.

And in the short amount of time I stood there watching, I had come to learn several things about him: they boys he was with were his brothers and he went camping with his family every other week from Friday to late Sunday once every month—preferably the second Friday. Even if it was raining or snowing they still camped, waiting to experience the true nature of survival. His last name was McCarty and he was the youngest of a big family, but the biggest and tallest out of all of them. He preferred Pepsi over Coca-Cola and was so close to saving up for his first car. It was so endearing. I hated him for it. Almost.

And I couldn't deny the way he looked, no matter how much I didn't want to, because he looked good today. His bare arms were crossed in front of his chest, flexing the muscles. It was like he knew I was here and was torturing me. I had to look at the ground. If I stared too long I'd lose control—and not just from the bloodlust. I still wasn't used to the way he smelled. He always surprised me.

I didn't notice that he was gone once I looked back at them. I turned my head, looking around, trying to find Emmett. It was like he had vanished. It wasn't until I heard one of the boys say he went back to camp that I knew. I followed.

Carefully, but quickly, I made my way to him, following his scent. But as I got closer I smelled something else. It was an animal. I knew that much, but I couldn't pinpoint what kind of animal it was, I just knew it wasn't a deer.

I stood there wary for a moment before deciding to just see what it was since I knew no animal could overpower me. And when I got closer I got quieter and realized the smell of a bear was close to Emmett. I had come across a bear while in Pennsylvania, but that was it. I paused for a moment—something was wrong. Emmett's scent was stronger than ever, but there was also something else.

I listened closely and I could hear heavy breathing. When I got full view of the situation the yelling started. Standing behind a tree still far away enough to be away from sight I saw blood pour from Emmett's head to the ground. He was right beside his campsite and his shirt that he had probably put on after taking a bath was torn open against his pale skin that it almost looked black in colour. I saw him run his fingers through the small stream, inspecting the liquid.

Close to him was the black bear, about to finish him off, and I didn't know why, but I was terrified. I saw his eyes and I knew he looked terrified too. He tried to inch away, crawling on his back, but he could barely move. He was weak. He was tired. The blood was coming out of him in streams, his eyes losing focus and his head lulling from side to side. He was going to die and he was helpless about the situation. He had no control, and he would be leaving a human family not a mile away.

And at that moment I could feel what he was feeling. I felt like I was drowning and only sinking deeper. I backed away, scared, and tripped on branch. My legs felt frail and my head throbbed. Humans didn't deserve to die when it wasn't there time—he couldn't leave the world this soon. And at that moment I also felt what Carlisle felt: the need to save, the utter anguish at the sight of seeing someone who most likely didn't deserve death be so close to it. Humans had what I didn't have: mortality, and the sight of it being taken away from them made me feel.

I could smell him. He smelled so good, but I felt torn apart and there was a hollow and painful feeling inside of my chest. The fear, but not for me because I knew I could take on the bear, was more than I could handle. Fear for him. I ran past the trees, I ran as you only could in nightmares I couldn't have, and jumped on the bear. I didn't think, just acted.

My eyes were probably black. Suddenly, I was so thirsty, but I didn't think it was a thirst for hunger. I bit into the bear, filled with rage so fierce. There was blood on the ground—there had been a struggle. I attacked the bear easily, draining it of its blood so I could resist Emmett easier. But for what? Did I want to leave him to die? I didn't know.

When the bear was finally on the ground, dead and drained, I dragged my body to Emmett's. His eyes were now closed and he looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. That made me angry. I touched him, for the first time. I ran my fingers through his hair. It was so soft despite being matted with blood. I lifted my fingers. It smelled so good. I closed my eyes, trying to control myself.

I stared at the almost lifeless carcass, the rise and fall of his chest getting less visible. His chest was barely moving, but I knew it still was. Emmett, tall and big, had never looked so small and so vulnerable.

And I could have had him right then and there. No one would know I had finished him off. But I restrained myself. I couldn't kill him. Maybe this was what Carlisle felt whenever he tried to kill a human. There was that feeling again. I could feel it. I hated it. I think I did. Having been human who was taken from their human life, I knew what it was like, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't be so hypocritical.

And I knew then that Carlisle seemed to have more influence on me than I thought.

"Emmett?" I half whispered, half of me truly there.

I threw my arms around him and held him. His blood got on me but I didn't care. I resisted. I didn't feel thirsty. I couldn't. I couldn't let myself. For once.

I lifted my hand and traced the edge of his ear, brushing through his dark and curled hair, sliding down the edge of his jaw until I held his chin. I found his dimples and memories of Henry washed through me. If I didn't save him for being Emmett, I had to save him because of his resemblance to Henry. If I let Emmett die I felt like I would be letting Henry die as well.

I felt my lips part and I wanted to keep him alive. I lowered my head but stopped. I couldn't do it. I had never done this before. Anger rushed through me again. There was anger for my own weakness. Anger shut my lips into a hard line and lost hope.

But I couldn't leave him.

And I tried to convince myself that it was because I needed to know how beautiful he thought I was, and if he had meant what he had said.

Quickly, I jumped up and ran through the forest. He was probably twice as heavy as me but I didn't let go. I managed to only run for a while before I got tired. The pain in my chest was now replaced with fire. I was burning on the inside.

A hundred miles. It was about a hundred miles from the Appalachia to where I found Emmett. But I held on. I walked through the forest, sometimes getting lost because Emmett's human scent messed with my mind. I tried to concentrate. I really did. When I reached the house, probably hours since I had left, I just stood there. I stood staring at the door and back at Emmett, bloody and bruised in my arms. I almost cried. I almost dropped him there. I wanted to go to sleep. If only.

I forced myself closer to the house. I ran right through the door. I'd fix it later. Maybe. I would. I really would. Immediately, Carlisle was in front of me.

I stared at him, my hair probably covered in dirt and blood. Part of it was in front of my left eye but I could never let go of him to move it out of the way.

"Help him please," I said, nearly breathless.

Carlisle was quick to get Emmett from my arms and I almost fell to the floor. Without a word from his lips yet he went to the living room. Esme was already in the room and I heard Edward come in from where my car was kept. They were both watching Emmett carefully. I didn't like the way they looked at him.

"If you need to leave the room, do it now please," Carlisle said. No one moved. I wasn't expecting them to.

"Quickly," I exclaimed.

Edward stared at me and I ignored him—or tried to. But what got to me was that there was no anger in his eyes, just… understanding. I pressed my lips tightly together, staring back at him. He lasted longer than I thought before smiling—it was small, but I saw it—and turned to Carlisle.

"Rosalie, why—"

"I'm—I, don't know. I just—I'll explain it later. Please help him. Do it now." I didn't care that I was begging. I didn't know how long Emmett had left in him.

"Are you sure? He may not—"

"Yes, just do it!"

Carlisle seemed to understand and focused his attention back to Emmett. "He still has a heartbeat. I'll see what I can do."

"Well, do it!" I practically yelled at him. Each second felt like an agonizing year as I waited. I was panicking. I was going to leave and let Carlisle concentrate but couldn't. I couldn't let Emmett out of my sight. I wouldn't leave him. I didn't know why.

The pain in my chest came again, full force. Would it ever stop? I didn't know if I ever wanted it to.

Then, as if in slow motion, Carlisle bit down onto Emmett's throat. He was very careful and my hands felt like they were going to break. My nails were digging into my palms. He couldn't die. I wouldn't let him die. What was I saying? I had no control over that. Please God, let him live.

I looked at Carlisle. I wanted Emmett to live, and maybe Carlisle did too.

**

* * *

**

**a/n**: i am well aware i changed emmett in 1934 instead of 1935. reason is, i don't want to bore you with fillers when i got the cullen and rosalie dynamic done in a couple of weeks/months. that being said, emmett would only be eighteen in human years in this story instead of the supposed twenty years, making him and rosalie the same age.


	21. Part Three: McCarty

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

It was then that I knew that I could trust Carlisle. When he looked at me, all that reflected his eyes was understanding. Unlike Edward, there was no hint of worry or remorse, just complete and total comprehension. And I knew that from then on for the rest of my life that I could trust him—not that he ever gave me a reason not to. He did things for others without being asked to, and I think that was what made him successful as a doctor. The chance to help people reeled him in—not the money or whatever fame may come out of it. And because of what he was—what we were—he probably thought of helping others as a retribution for his sins, but enjoyed doing it along the way. He was nothing but benevolent, nothing short of compassionate, and I could finally see why Esme loved him. He bared his soul for all to see and I couldn't help but jealous. I was envious of the way he was so confident. He was so sure of himself in a way that I couldn't see myself match—and the rest of the family fit that way too, but not as prominent yet collective as Carlisle. I think that was what made him more arresting.

Suddenly I could feel what he felt when he found me. So suddenly, I could feel the pain of seeing someone dying and having the chance to save them, but choosing not too. That was an impossible thing to convince yourself. When you had the unnatural power beyond hospitals of saving someone's life—someone who barely scraped twenty, someone who barely lived their life that clearly was not over—it would be difficult to ignore. And if it was ignored, guilt that went for miles would arise. And despite who I was and who others made me out to be, I knew I couldn't let him die. He looked like he had so much more to live for. It made me realize just how much Carlisle put on the line every day. Evidently, he was the most sure, most heartfelt of the Cullen's, and it wasn't until now that I realized it.

And being in Emmett's position not too long ago, I understood. I really didn't want to die—that's why my heart was still beating after all that time. And that's why his was too.

I didn't really know what to feel.

I was so enamoured in what I was thinking that I didn't even notice the lingering silence. After Carlisle had bitten Emmett it was quiet. I didn't know what had happened, but Carlisle didn't say anything and I didn't ask.

I tried to think about something else for the time being but everything always came back to Emmett. It was all too surreal. I was expecting him to be screaming or thrashing around but he wasn't. I looked at Carlisle. He looked apprehensive and I didn't want to ask. So I didn't.

Carlisle's voice shot through the silence. "He lost a lot of blood when you brought him, Rosalie—he was almost dead."

I didn't really know what to think.

Emmett's skin was pale and his chest was slowly rising up and down. The burning he'd feel would come soon.

"Just give him more time, he'll come around." Carlisle sounded sure of himself, but I wasn't sure if he even believed it. His voice was wary, slightly shaking.

I stared at Emmett's closed eyes, his face almost tortured, and was soon reminded of his lifeless body that the swelling in my chest grew. Memories rushed through me of _my_ death and it hurt. It really, really did.

"Carlisle," I barely whispered, still staring at Emmett.

I felt his eyes on me and I didn't know if I could really tell him. Part of me wished Edward was here to say it himself. Another part of me, somewhere deep inside my conscious mine, didn't.

"Emmett…" I croaked. Carlisle didn't say anything.

This wasn't me—the suffering, pain, distraught, on the brink of tears but not being able to cry… that wasn't me at all. Where did Rosalie, straight-forward and introverted Rosalie go? I didn't miss her. Was I supposed to? It was funny how I wasn't myself. It was funny how I let my 'family' see me like this. It was funny how life was funny. I almost cried. I should have. I wished I did, then I wouldn't have to talk. Carlisle would turn and probably leave, thinking I needed a moment. I did. But I didn't want to ask him to leave. Maybe I should. I couldn't.

And I was too cold to cry. But if I was, then why did my insides feel like they were burning?

I stepped closer to Carlisle and pushed some hair out of Emmett's face. I could feel Carlisle still staring at me and couldn't help myself when I turned to him and asked, "Is this normal?"

Carlisle opened his mouth to speak but Emmett started to scream. I was relieved—scared too. I was relieved and scared. As Carlisle went over to Emmett I stayed close. I couldn't help it.

Emmett thrashed around and I held his arms and torso down while Carlisle held his head. We didn't have to say anything to each other because we knew what to do. Somewhere along the way Edward had come and held down his legs. His body was intoxicating. I felt dizzy. I wanted to touch him everywhere and memorize how he felt under my touch. Through his thin shirt I felt his muscles as he tried to twist out of my hold—his shirt rode up a bit and his shirt was soft but his skin was even softer.

He screamed words I couldn't understand and it didn't matter. At that moment I wished the pain stopped so he felt better. He was twisting and withering and I bet he thought he was on fire. I wished there were a kind of water I could dump on him to make the heat go away. Obviously, there wasn't.

My body was pressing against Emmett's and my hands were tightening my hold around his. Without even knowing, I started to draw circles on his palms, as if trying to calm him down. It didn't work. I wasn't expecting it to.

His eyes were shut and I began to talk to him. I started by telling him it was going to be okay, asking Carlisle questions here and there. Soon I was babbling and stopped making sense, mumbling words together. When did I start making sense? I wondered what made sense to him. Would he think his new life—his vampire life—made sense? I wanted to know, touch, feel, watch, and smell him like Esme did to Carlisle, a little lovely and a little ambitious.

Soon Emmett's thrashes slowed down before he immediately started to yell again, and my voice was frantic as I stared to ask Carlisle questions, often snapping at him. He gave me calm answers, telling me not to worry, telling me that he'll be okay, and telling me to calm down again.

After many painful minutes with seeing Emmett like that his actions eventually slowed. And soon he stopped moving and I reluctantly let go of him.

"He'll need to rest for a while before the transformation is complete, and more pain might come in random spurts," Carlisle told me.

I kept my eyes on Emmett and saw through my peripheral vision Edward staring at him too. I almost forgot he was there. Soon Edward left the room to go back to Esme, but Carlisle stayed a little longer. He stayed longer than I thought. I could tell he didn't want to leave, but I told him I was okay. He was hesitant, but he left me alone with Emmett. I forgot to ask how long. That was okay though, I guess.

I watched him for I didn't know how long, just standing there. I couldn't sleep, so that helped. I closed my eyes for a long time sometimes, hoping that when I opened them he'd be staring back at me. I smelled bits of Emmett's smell on me and I wondered how they were able to resist. Carlisle, it was his kind of thing, but I was surprised at Edward. I should ask him about that later. Esme wasn't in the room though. I didn't mind. I understood. I liked her.

I wanted to hear his voice, I wanted to hear him talk to me for the first time. It would kill me if it were in pain. God, I hoped not. I couldn't wait to see him. But would he be disgusted with who we were, who he now was? A part of me feared that. I hated how I was, so would he too? Would he want nothing to do with me? What the hell was I thinking, I wasn't supposed to be attached to this guy. I told myself just one last look and now he could quite possibly spend an eternity with me. It wasn't supposed to be like that. What do I do now? I couldn't just ask Carlisle to kill him.

I stared down at him. Maybe he'd be to me what Edward was to me: a brother. I hoped so. I didn't. It's dangerous, what I felt. Would he hate me for wanting to change him? Did he want to marry, have kids, find a love? I wanted that, so maybe he did too. I ruined his life.

"Are you okay, my Angel?" a voice asked. It was low and tired and confused and a million other things I could describe, but easily crawled through the surface of my skin.

It took me a moment to register who was talking to me.

It took me a moment to register what he had just called me.

"Angel?" I asked him, ignoring his question.

He ignored mine. "Wow," he said, looking around the room, "Hell doesn't look that bad like they taught me in school."

"Hell?" I was lost.

Emmett stared at me quizzically. "Oh!" He shot up from the table. "This is heaven… that's why everything is white, and you're my angel."

He smiled. I stared. Esme had chosen to decorate the house with white furniture and it wasn't until now that I really looked at it.

I wanted to ask if Emmett was taking drugs or was just always this delusional.

"You're not hurting?" I asked him, pulling my hands away from his skin.

"Am I supposed to be? Well, I'm not anymore..." he answered himself, scratching his head and ruffling his hair.

"So he's awake," Carlisle said from the door frame.

Emmett turned to look at him and he turned back to me and said, while pointing to Carlisle, "That must be God!"

I gaped at him and I furrowed my brows. What the hell?

Esme and Edward took the chance to enter the room next and before he could speak I stopped him and said, "She's not the Virgin Mary and he's not Jesus. Carlisle isn't God either. And you're not dead. Sort of." I told him. I looked over at Carlisle.

Carlisle decided to be straight-forward with him. "We're vampires," he said.

Emmett looked contemplative. "Hmm… I'll have to think about that one."

I frowned. He noticed and smiled at me. He looked so calm. Why was he so calm when I was standing ramrod straight?

"Well," Emmett started, "I think you're supposed to be my angel then." I opened my mouth but he answered before I could speak. "You didn't say anything about you not being my angel." Before I could reply (again) he turned to Carlisle and asked him, "So how old are you?"

"Two hundred ninety-five," he answered, not bothered at all.

Emmett's eyes got visibly wider as he scanned Carlisle. "_No way_! That's older than my great, great, great, great… whatever, grandparents! You look no older than thirty! How about you, Angel?" he asked, turning to me.

I ignored the pet name. "Eighteen."

He turned back to Carlisle and pointed at me with his thumb. "See _that_, I can believe. I'm twenty as well."

My voice held no emotion and I was staring at a spot on the wall across the room. Memories flooding. Crashing. Burning. "He turned me a year ago," I said, never taking my eyes off of him. I couldn't. My own conscious mind wouldn't let me. I realized then that we were born at relatively the same time, and that if I were human and somehow living in Tennessee there was a chance we would've met _as_ humans. Though it was highly unlikely because I didn't camp and had no reason to move from New York to Tennessee. I would've never met him. I didn't know if I was content with being a vampire just yet. I wondered if he was. I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to jinx it.

There was silence for a moment before he got up and stretched, towering over us all. He seemed to notice that too. "So I'm a vampire, eh? Can we still eat food?"

Carlisle answered. "We don't need it anymore, all we need is blood. It would just stay in inside of us until we took it out so we choose not to."

"Really? How could you choose not to eat? Any other rules?" He turned to me. "Anymore, my Angel?" he asked, turning back at me. Edward pointedly stared at me, something evident in his eyes. I just couldn't tell what. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know.

"We'll discuss it later," Carlisle interrupted, "there are more important things we have to attend to."

I only stared back at Carlisle, not sure of what he meant. But he changed all four of us so I didn't question or doubt him. I only waited.

"So you aren't going to… kill me?" Emmett asked. No one said anything and he thought for a moment before replying, "Oh, but I'm already dead. It's going to be hard to get used to that." He laughed out loud. It wasn't an awkward-break-the-silence laughs, but one where he was truly happy. I smiled. At first, I did not notice.

"You should smile more often, Angel," Emmett told me and I hadn't seen him. Once he said those words I frowned and his eyes held baffled curiosity.

Carlisle interrupted again and asked, "How is your neck? I must admit, your blood was—"

"_Electrifying_," I mumbled, talking to myself. It took me a moment to realize that I had said that aloud. I didn't regret it. I shouldn't. What was done was done. I looked at Emmett and he was smiling at me. It was as bright as his eyes. I should have hated him for it but didn't.

"So… are we gonna bite some humans?" Emmett asked, turning everyone's attention away from my slip up. I breathed a sigh of relief as quiet as I could.

"We're different. We prefer animals," Carlisle answered, calm as the day I met him.

"Oh, I could do that I guess."

Emmett rubbed his neck and his wrists were huge. I bet his ankles were like that too. He looked strong. I bet he could pick me up. I bet he could pick Edward up. I bet he could pick all of us up.

After an awkward moment of silence Carlisle asked, "Do you feel better?"

"Uhh, yeah." He laughed out loud and I couldn't contain myself. He was so _happy_. Why wasn't he crazy for blood or in denial of what he had become? Was he hiding it and planning to question it later? But why would he do that? Just who was Emmett?

"Why aren't you in denial? Why aren't you questioning anything?" I asked, all heads turning to me. I ignored them. I didn't care.

"Well, being a vampire can't be so bad if you're here. And him," he said, pointing at Carlisle.

"What about me?" Edward suddenly asked. I had to do a double-take when I even saw him grinning.

I looked back at Emmett. I didn't understand him. Maybe I could later. Maybe he would be alright. Could I trust him? I wanted to, but couldn't even though I had protection… my _family_ was here. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Emmett around. Edward saw something in him and Edward simply being able to read minds could understand a person better than even themselves. Maybe he saw a brother. I think he needed that. This was the first time I truly saw him happy.

Carlisle chuckled. "Emmett, this is my family, and you're welcomed to be a part of it if you wish. I'm Carlisle, this is my wife, Esme, and my children, Edward and Rosalie. We're by no means blood related, however."

"Ah, I know what you mean," Emmett said, nodding. "This is a lot to take in."

"Maybe we should take him hunting with us. Just get him used to animals quicker so it'd be easier to handle," Edward suddenly announced, "Carlisle?"

Carlisle turned to Edward, knowing written all over his face, and left the room. Edward did too and as he passed me he said, "This is the first time I've seen you happy too."

* * *

Carlisle had wanted Edward and I to take Emmett hunting alone. I didn't know why he was so lax, but maybe it was because he was so surprised at Emmett's reaction to being a vampire. We were all surprised actually. Esme and Carlisle had decided to spend some time alone at the house, and even I didn't want to know what that meant.

Instead of heading to Tennessee, Edward wanted to go to West Virginia. We ran together—which for us meant a good several hundred yards away from each other. Emmett was surprising both of us as we passed the border of Virginia, but as we passed the town everything we thought we knew about Emmett didn't matter anymore.

He halted in the middle of nowhere, catching me by surprise. Had I not seen him stop, I knew Edward wouldn't have either. I yelled Edward's name to bring him back as I watched Emmett closely, his nostrils flaring, his eyes darkening even a darker shade of red that they looked almost black. I parted my mouth and inhaled the air, suddenly realizing what Emmett was smelling.

Edward came by shortly after and I glared at him, screaming in my mind that there were humans about. It took him a moment, but when he sniffed the air and could smell them too, his head snapped towards Emmett as he went close to them. Humans were still very hard for me to resist—having been a vampire for only a couple of months—so I could only imagine how hard it was for him.

Edward and I watched him warily as he looked to the sky before through the trees, as if he were looking past them all. His brows furrowed for a moment and a snarl escaped his lips when both Edward and I slowly advanced towards him. But then, he closed his eyes and dropped his head so he looked on the ground. He looked as if he were concentrating. On what?

"I bet humans taste good, but I'm not supposed to eat them, right?" Emmett laughed a little bit as he kept his eyes on the dirt. He sounded sarcastic and mildly amused, knowing the answer to his own question.

Emmett's fists were clenched and I knew he was trying so hard to resist temptation. Immediately, I latched onto his arm, pulling him away from the scent. He didn't resist. I hadn't expected him to.

Edward led us again as I dragged Emmett along, casting us a few glances every now and again. I didn't know if Edward was trying to lead us to humans or just an idiot, because soon the scent of humans became more prominent. Was West Virginia even that populated?

"Edward!" I yelled at him, frustrated at his stupidity, and Emmett's withering blood control. Emmett tried to cooperate and say a few _words_ I didn't once fall for, but that didn't last once he smelled human flesh and running veins. Soon he started to struggle against my grip, his eyes onyx with a tinge of red, his mouth making a snarl, his muscles tensing. I was by no means strong, and my body was only lithe and lean.

It wasn't long before his senses lost control, but hadn't expected to be literally thrown off of him. When I wouldn't let go Emmett kept persisting until he threw me off of him and onto one of the trees. I fell to the ground and slowly brought myself back up. It didn't hurt at all, but it stung on the inside.

_I felt something slam behind me and I fell forward, but I was able to catch myself from falling._

"Emmett!" I yelled, directing Edward to him. I got up immediately, proving I was okay, and ran in a much slower pace after the two boys. When they were out of sight I stopped moving and rested my hands on my thighs, doubling over. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. I couldn't.

I could handle physical pain, even if I could feel it. It was much easier to handle than what went on in the inside.

"_You're so beautiful, any man would be lucky to have you. You're so—"_

Why did one thing have to relate to another? Why couldn't things just be forgotten?

"_Bye beautiful."_

Oh God, just when I thought Royce had left me he just came back—and I was the one that welcomed him back into my life.

I couldn't handle it—the pressure was overwhelming. I felt like my insides were tearing themselves apart, my stilled heart ready to burst in to life and explode out of my skin. I felt as if I were dying—as in, _really_ dying—and I felt pain course through my body as if it were pumping itself through my veins. Every single memory came again harder than before. It was as if they sat on the edge of my mind waiting to tip over at the very thought of pain, the very thought of _him_. And I knew that cycle would be never ending and would always be there to tear whatever happiness I built up down. I didn't know if I was _happy_ for changing Emmett though, I just knew I couldn't let him die. That didn't mean I cared for the guy.

And why would I? The only person I could fully trust was myself—I was the one person I wouldn't screw over.

I headed home.

I had made a mistake.

* * *

**a/n**: i know that the time line is way off in this story. rosalie would be two years older than emmett (in vampire years), but in this one she is barely one year (in fact, it's only calculated to a couple of months older than emmett). that means rosalie was turned when she was eighteen (like in this fic), and emmett when he was twenty (like this fic), but rosalie would have spent two years with the cullen's before emmett, but in this fic she's only with them for a couple of months before finding emmett (and she should be twenty years now). it isn't a big part of twilight so ignore me messing it up.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

When I came home, both Carlisle and Esme were surprised to see me—of all things alone too. They had caught me by surprise—by standing right behind the doorway, as if they had been expecting me. I stared at them for a moment, as did they, before grabbing a hold of Esme's hand and leading her to the other end of the house, a frown soon coming to view on my face. I could feel Carlisle staring at the back our our—_my_—head in bewilderment, but I paid no attention and only brought Esme further along.

She didn't protest—in fact, she didn't say anything as I lead her to my room. I shut the door and kept my palms pressed against it, my back resting on the door as well. When I heard it shut I breathed out, closing my eyes and almost sinking to the floor. When I opened my eyes Esme was staring at me with so much concern that I didn't know if I'd be able to take it. I just stared at her as she did too before shaking my head, clearing my thoughts, so to speak.

"I don't know why I saved him," I said to Esme, wringing my hands together in front of me. Nerves and Rosalie did not compute, but for some reason, specifically today, it did.

"Maybe you just care for him and don't know it," Esme said, smiling slightly. All the nerves that were written on her face had disappeared. I didn't believe her. My fretfulness didn't let up.

I shook my head at her, looking her right into the eyes. "No. I can't just—I can't be there. Ever." My voice was low and soft at the same time, sitting right at the edge of a total breakdown.

She looked expectant, as if wanting me to explain, but I didn't. I couldn't explain it and I didn't want to. As far as I was concerned, it was buried so deep that even Edward wouldn't be able to understand. Esme continued to stare, but when she realized I wouldn't crack, she stood up from my bed and almost walked past me. Instead, she stopped at my side and her fingers lightly touched my shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something but I looked away from her, shaking my head, "No. I'm just—I'm just... done."

I left before she did, walking out the door onto the dry terrain. I wasn't hungry—not at all. I turned around and went back into the house, my head heavy and hair dragging across the air. I rolled my neck back as I walked back into the house where I heard the hush voices of Carlisle and Esme. I didn't even bother trying to listen, heading straight for the garage where my Buick sat. But when I got in it wasn't just my Buick inside the garage, but a Bentley as well. My brows furrowed and my mouth splayed open, staring at the black beauty in front of me. I had noticed what it looked like in the book Esme had given me. It still didn't beat the Cadillac though.

I walked over to the car and looked at it from all angles: over, under, and inside. My fingers touched the smooth exterior of the car, and I dragged my fingertips along the black hood. My hands were cold. I pulled it back and crossed my arms. Edward had left a note near the car on what had to be fixed—the box of tools next to it. When I looked back to my car, it was the best it could be. I didn't want to touch it in fear of destroying it.

Soon I didn't care whether or not Edward would freak if I touched his Bentley. Having spent so long on mine, I knew the basics about cars, and dealing with a different model would only expand my mind on the subject of automobiles. Throwing out the thought of Emmett and Edward and Esme and Carlisle, I got on my knees and began to work on the Bentley, daydreaming along the way, but daydreaming wasn't easy and soon, I began to think of nothing at all.

The hours flew by and I didn't pay much attention to the murmured voices on the other side of the door. I heard my name brought up frequently, as well as Emmett's. What I wasn't expecting was to hear his voice so pain stricken. I tried to ignore it. I really did.

The slowly creaked door opened and I stayed under the car. I saw two pairs of feet: Edward's, and Emmett's.

"Why are you touching my car, Rose?" Edward joked, rocking on the heels of his feet, laughter evident.

I rolled my eyes from under the car and kicked one of my legs out. He must have anticipated it because he moved out of the way. "Needed something to do since I finished my Buick," I said simply, continuing my work.

"Woah!" Emmett started, genuinely surprised. "She fixed that? It looks brand new." He sounded all to enthusiastic, as if he had forgotten everything he had done. Soon my smile of accomplishment turned into a frown and I shut off the world once again.

* * *

I spent most of my time with Edward's car that I soon adopted as my own. Edward seemed to finally understand that I resented the idea of hanging around Emmett so he voluntarily took him hunting, dealing with every problem that could occur with a newborn. I had heard him say he had to drag him back from attacking humans thrice, sent flying by Emmett all three times. By week three however, Edward said he had been showing improvement and wouldn't go chasing any humans that happened to walk by.

Emmett tried to talk to me while I was in the garage, and by by short, terse answers he'd get the cue to leave, but for the first time he was persistent.

I was fixing the exhaust pipe when he had walked in. I didn't look at him once as he waited, so he sighed. I still didn't turn. He apparently didn't get the hint.

"Rose, I'm sorry," he said, defeated.

I dropped whatever I was holding and turned to him, crossing my arms. "Apology accepted. Now, if you'll excuse me I have some work to do," I said as I walked past him, reaching for the cloth. I wiped my hands and swiped my forehead with the back of my hand, going back to the engine I had been working on earlier before.

"Rose—"

"_Please_ go, Emmett."

"But you're mad."

"I'm not mad." I looked at one of the walls before turning back around.

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You are when you look away, when you bite your lip."

I paused momentarily, not really understanding his perceptiveness. I brushed it off soon after though, wiping my hands one more time before working on the engine, ignoring his presence completely.

"I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry anyways," he mumbled as he left and I was baffled at his apology—he didn't even know why he was apologizing, but there he was, baring everything for my forgiveness, but not knowing that it could—and would—go declined. There he was, tearing down his pride, but from what I have seen of him so far it seemed like he didn't have any. There he was, showing vulnerability, a volatile emotion that only left you hurt. He didn't care. He was careless. The fact that he didn't care made him more admirable.

And that's how it went for the next few days. Edward's Bentley took longer than I thought to fix, being more beat up that my Buick and what I thought imaginable. Edward at first resisted me touching his car, but soon he didn't care. I never cared to begin with.

The next incident occurred when I was going to go hunting—alone. Everyone had just finished when I decided to take a break with the Bentley, craving blood, anticipating chasing the deer and bringing it to the floor. I was so zoned out, so hungry, that I had not noticed Emmett.

"Hey Rosalie, going hunting?" he asked, appearing beside me out of practically nowhere. He was on his toes—excited, but he was always excited, always smiling.

"Mhmm," I agreed, not saying a word to him. I was silent after that but he kept carrying on. He did that, saying things without thinking, going on as if nothing had happened, that nothing bad ever will happen. Sometimes I'd like to have his state of mind, but that usually went away when I thought of the danger of being so optimistic and so careless.

"Maybe we should go hunting... together," he suggested, staring off to the left while he asked, so calm, so easily. I glanced at him and his hands were slightly shaking, as if he were on edge. But hadn't he just eaten, so it couldn't be because he was hungry. Or maybe he hadn't went hungry which was why he was asking me. I kept my eyes on his hands for a long time and he noticed because he put them in his pockets.

The fact that he might not have eaten yet didn't make me change my mind. I knew what he wanted. They all wanted the same thing. It was always the same. So with collective coolness I breezed past him and opened the door, and before I shut it I said to him clearly and without facing his head, "No," and promptly shut the door.

I had eaten more than ever that day.

He never did let up. The next time he tried to get close was when I had just finished a meal. I was with Esme, but she had gone ahead of me when Emmett came out.

"You done hunting?"

"Yup," I told him, not slowing down my step as he talked to me.

"So... I was thinking that maybe—"

"No." I didn't listen to what he had to say after that, not giving him the chance to try and expose me. Before he'd ask I'd tersely say no, not expecting much from Emmett anymore. I didn't want to be around him. It didn't feel right. It never felt right.

But he didn't give up and he put his arm around my shoulder to try and draw me close. He gave such a charming smile and his eyes literally _sparkled_. I gave him a stare and without breaking eye contact grabbed a hold of his arm and slammed it down away from me, away from my touch.

"No," I repeated, even shaking my head for emphasis. Then I ran into the house away from Emmett. When I was alone in my room I took a deep breath and took off my shirt, looking at my arm at the place he had touched me. My skin was still porcelain and clear and I breathed a sigh of relief, sliding down the wall and onto the floor. I stared at the ceiling and closed my eyes, without a shirt and about to cry. I was as silent as possible, not wanting anyone to hear me. I was able to not make a sound and it looked like I was mute. When my voice was about slip I put a hand over my mouth, pressing it deeply against my mouth, trying to silence myself.

I didn't know if anyone had heard me. No one tried to come close.

After he had touched me I became more careful of when I was around him. He would always send me a smile or try to say something stupid and lacking sense, suggesting either going hunting together or even to town, and as tempting as it was to go to the _outside_, I never did accept his offer. I couldn't. I just couldn't be alone with him, and even if Edward was there it still wasn't enough.

He seemed nothing but charming, but that was how it always started. They always tried to lure you in and I knew of his intentions and what he was doing because more than once I found myself getting lured in. Luckily, I was able to stop before anything horrible could happen. I smiled at my acuteness.

So it was only natural for me to start rejecting any offers of hunting together. I always hunted alone after that, but I didn't mind. It gave me time to think. About what? Anything I guess. But soon doubt would plague my mind when nothing else could be thought, and memories of Rochester would soon reappear. My hunting would become very sporadic after that, neglecting to hunt for the very reason of the sheer loneliness of being in the forest.

Emmett, however, had been making progress and had been hunting with everyone except me—not since that one incident. Just thinking about it had me frozen for long periods of times and I knew that less I saw of Emmett that the less it would hurt. I just didn't know why I saved him. Why? Why did I do that? There was no answer, and I was not looking for one. I knew if I had nothing to do with him I would not be reminded, I would not remember. Any trust he could have made was gone ever since that one time. He didn't even know what he had done. That was what made it even more frightening.

* * *

I was cleaning up the car one day when Edward stormed in, something that was out of the ordinary for his calm and collected character. He more than once tried to get me to talk to Emmett, but I always ended the conversation short, returning to the garage. It was my new sanctuary. I saw less of the Cullen's every day, and I knew it wasn't long till it reached Edward's breaking point. I just didn't think it'd be so soon.

"Why'd you save him?" Edward snarled, pulling the cloth from my hands, his eyes lethal.

I was caught off by his question. I answered calmly, "I was hunting and I saw him." I didn't reach for the towel, not in the mood to make things more complicated than they were starting to be.

"That's it?" He shrugged his shoulders sarcastically, not satisfied with my answer. His eyes were wide, the topaz colour splayed for all to see. I was still calm, cool, and tired. I groaned, bringing one hand to the side of my forehead, rubbing it, almost closing my eyes.

He waited. He didn't grab onto my arm or shake me or yell at me some more, he just waited. I sighed. Why did he have to care so much?

I didn't think about what I was thinking. I didn't give myself a chance to block it out. I knew he heard it, I knew he just heard my vulnerability. I groaned inwardly, speaking before he could.

"I saw Henry in him—he looks exactly like him. And I'd never let Henry die." And I wouldn't. There was Henry in Emmett and I wouldn't let anything happen to Henry. But that image fleeted as soon as it came, and soon I saw nothing but Emmett in Emmett—dimples and all.

"And Emmett?" he asked, literally reading my mind.

I shrugged my shoulders.

Edward muttered something even I didn't pick up. I scrutinized him, furrowing my brows, almost glaring. He ignored it. "So you don't care about him at all?"

"I only met him once," I said without missing a beat, the logic seemingly making sense as I said the words.

"And?" he barely was able to say, anger taking over him. It was like he had not eaten for days, he was absolutely feral.

I didn't back down, I resisted, because that's what I did. "I don't even know him. I don't care about people I don't know." I was starting to get angry myself, and I found myself leaning close to him, getting into Edward's face as if that made a difference. I would like to think that made my point only clearer.

"And who's fault is that? He wants to know you, but you just shut him out. Don't think I don't hear any of it."

I frowned at him. "What's your point?"

"Could you try and be his friend? Acknowledge his existence? You begged Carlisle to save him."

Wait, hold it. I stopped moving, stopped breathing. I put one hand up, my palm facing Edward. "No, no, no," I started, shaking my head. "I didn't beg, I demanded."

Edward sighed.

I continued, "Anyways, look: there's you, Carlisle, and Esme. I don't need Emmett in my life right now."

He looked baffled, letting out a tired laugh. "Could you try?"

"Why?"

"Emmett doesn't know what happened with you, cut him some slack. And do you know how hard it is for Carlisle to change humans? Don't let him know you just used him. Both of them think you actually care for this guy, and maybe you should."

"Why should I care for someone who doesn't of me?"

"You saved his life, of course he cares about you."

"How would you know?" I paused. "Oh yeah, your mind reading thing. Fine. I'll say 'Hi, Emmett!' or 'What are you doing, Emmett?'. Happy?"

His anger let up and he breathed out, his breath getting on my face. "Well, it's a start." Edward finally relented, handing me back the cloth. "Esme and Carlisle are going out, so Emmett's going to be around. Try to be civil, please. I'll be here to, okay?"

I didn't say anything but thought of it—confirming that I would to Edward.

And as much as I hated to admit it, it did make me feel better.

So a couple of hours later after I was almost done cleaning, all three of us: Edward, Emmett, and I, were in the garage while Esme and Carlisle went to town one late evening. Edward and Emmett were talking animatedly while I cleaned up my Buick, Edward at his Bentley with Emmett at his side. I caught Emmett staring my way more than once, but I grew to ignore it.

Noticing that I didn't have a clean towel anymore because the one I had used wasn't even white anymore, I stood up and headed for the door before turning for Edward. "I'm getting another towel, Edward. Do you need anything?" He looked up to me and shook his head. When I was about to turn he stared down at me and I almost sighed. I kept it inside instead. "Emmett?" I tried to say enthusiastically, but it only came out long and tired. A forced small smile was on my lips when he looked up at me.

"Huh?" he asked, surprised at my voice directed to him, I bet. Did he just ignore me?

"Do you need anything?" I repeated, frustrated now.

I could see a grin coming out from one side of his face. "I think you know what I need."

My brows creased and I just stared at him, not getting what he needed. What did he want—did he think I could read minds like Edward? "No, I don't," I said bluntly, looking around the room.

When he saw me unmoving, emotion not changing, he stammered. "Uh, no—I don't need anything," he said quickly as Edward glared at him while Emmett laughed nervously.

"Okay," I said lowly, retrieving my clean towel, confused at what they both were doing. I heard Emmett mutter but paid no heed to what was being said. Frankly, I didn't care.

When I came back I found Emmett by my car that time, his hand under his chin as if deep in thought. When he saw me come in he instantly brightened, signaling me over. I did, but not because of him, but because I was heading there anyways.

When I was close he asked, "Hey, you need help?" His smile was so wide that I was surprised his face didn't split into two.

I was about to say no when I remembered what Edward had asked of me. All the things I did for him, seriously. "You know about cars?" I inquired, looking up at him. I never realized how tall he was. He was a good head taller than me and I was tall myself, taller than all the other girls I knew as well as a good chunk of boys. Heck, I was the same height as Edward.

"Of course, I had a Chevrolet," he said nonchalantly, shrugging and throwing the dirty towel over his shoulder as if he were dealing with cars since birth. Truth was, I knew he knew nothing of cars. It was all just an act. I stared at him, not getting why he was pretending, not understanding what he was up to. It was slightly unnerving.

When I didn't answer him he turned to look at me, even going as far as bending forward so we were at eye level.

I flinched back, almost pushing him away. I didn't. I didn't want to touch him. Instead, I just turned my head and stared at the car. "You had a Chevrolet," I repeated, staring at the wall with dead panned eyes. I didn't want to look at him. I straightened and moved away from Emmett. He followed. I hadn't expected him not to.

Silence passed through us. When I didn't say anything he asked, "Yeah, so?"

"This is a Buick." When he didn't say anything I sighed. "They're two different cars, Emmett. They're not the same." I turned to him with raised brows and all I was met with was bewilderment.

I went back to the car and Emmett stayed standing where he was. I was cleaning one side and Emmett, being impatient, soon grew bored, playing around by whipping the damp towel that was on his shoulder in the air. The left side of his shirt was all wet but he didn't seem to care. It clung to his body and it was hard not to notice. I knew then that when he was human he must have done a lot of handiwork because it wasn't hard to spot the definition in his arms and the hint of definition of his torso. I turned away.

When Emmett grew bored of the towel whipping and idle conversation with Edward—who was just as preoccupied as I was, he stayed close to me and I almost told him to go away, but Edward must have read my mind because he cleared his throat as soon as I opened my mouth. I didn't know why I listened to him sometimes, but I did. Emmett soon got into it and started to hand me tools, more often than not the wrong one. I would correct him, but he wouldn't know what name went with what so I had to come out and get it myself. All Emmett did was slow me down and soon I found myself almost laughing when he handed me a screwdriver instead of a fuel pump. He honestly thought he was right.

I shook my head at him, a corner of my mouth coming up and his laughter soon erupting in the closed space. Even Edward's head came up from the side of his car, his hair a russet mess.

As I went along I often talked to myself, saying what I was doing so I would remember it later on. It was kind of strange, but it kept me focused—until Emmett also decided to mimic what I was saying, trying to have a better understanding with cars. I didn't think it helped.

"Fuel pump, check... wipers, check... engine, check..." I started, before hearing his voice too. I continued to talk and stared at him from the corner of my eyes, going unnoticed by him. "...steering wheel, check, Emmett getting on my nerves, check..."

He had just said his name when he realized what I had done, saying, "Hey!" before turning to me. I just continued walking around the car before uncrossing my arms and proclaiming I was done—Emmett too.

I turned to him, tilting my head, and asked, "You don't know anything about cars, do you?"

He hesitated before admitting the truth. "No."

"And you call yourself a man," I scoffed jokingly. I turned my head away when I felt a small smile came onto my lips.

He immediately got defensive. "Hey, don't you start with that. A man only needs to know three things, Rosalie: how to please his woman, and to be good looking."

I didn't know how Edward handled being around Emmett for so long. I gave Emmett a chance to realize his mistake but he didn't say a thing. I looked up at him under my lashes and said, "Emmett, that's only two things."

He must have been waiting for me to say that. "I know, but I'm more than a man and only need two out of three. Besides, I could count good-looking twice," he said absolutely serious, which had me almost on the floor then and there. He was staring at me like I had grown an extra head, appalled that I was asking such a thing.

"Someone vainer that Rosalie…" I heard Edward interrupt, muttering from across the garage. I shot him a glare even though he wasn't looking, and thought of every terrible thing I could and called him it. I used some very colourful words I bet he didn't know I knew.

"He's just jealous, Rosalie." Emmett shrugged, turning to stare at Edward. There he was again, not caring. I looked at him for a long time.

"So you admit to being vain, Emmett?" Edward asked, putting both his arms on top of the roof of his car, laying his head on it. His bronze hair was a mess and looked absolutely hideous. I made a face at the sight of it.

"I'd like to call it, awareness of one's appearance," Emmett reassured, running a hand through his dark curled hair.

"Also known as being vain," Edward clarified, squinting a little and pretending to think about it by staring at the ceiling. He tapped his chin with a finger sarcastically, something I didn't think Emmett picked up on.

I decided to step in. "You're right, Emmett, he is just jealous," I teased, smirking at Edward. It wasn't until I said the words that I realized what I was doing—what I had been doing. My fingers curled together and I froze.

Emmett let out a dramatic sigh. "I wouldn't blame him. When you look as good as us it's hard not to be."

I let out a little laugh at him, all too nervous. "Wow, Emmett," I said, dropping my towel and leaving the garage.

I didn't return till the next day.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

I wanted it to stop. I prayed. I wished. I almost cried. Almost. I wish I did. I wish I could. I went hunting and no one came after me. I hoped it was because Emmett held Edward back, or Edward held Emmett back. I hoped they were fighting on the inside, wondering where the blond beauty was, deciding to just give her space. I hoped they were dying on the inside, wanting to know but deciding to wait. I hoped. I didn't even believe myself. They were so careless.

I fell to the floor, my hands tangled in my hair. I was on my knees and crouched over. I should have been in a fit—a violent rage, but I only sat on the ground paralyzed. My mind was shrouded with ominous darkness I almost welcomed in. There was nothing around me but clouded thoughts, bleak and utterly lost. Panic surged through me but I was stuck, the sound of the bitter wind even had me flinching. Desperate, I wanted something to hold on to—even _Edward_, and I probably wouldn't have minded Emmett. Just someone I recognized, at least. But no one came and I didn't know how to feel.

I hadn't realized how long I actually stayed inside. I didn't even notice the weather changing whenever I hunted alone. In and out, that was it. I never took the time to look around, or I would have noticed winter was ending. The snow was melting, the leaves starting to grow on the trees. I looked around, fascinated, staring at the sky. There was still light—it was still early. How much more had I missed? It felt like I hadn't seen Esme and Carlisle in years.

I was ashamed. I was selfish. I curled my fingers on the ground, dirt getting in my nails. My knees were dirty and I didn't care—for the first time in a long time. I was more than hopeless, I was bitter. I almost resented the fact that their presence—the Cullen's and even _Emmett_—was comforting. Being abandoned and so alone was all too familiar, drowning in the depths of isolation, that anything but was a more favourable alternative. If anyone came before I got up and left I would latch onto them like I was falling off the Earth because they would be my last chance at atonement.

And maybe I needed that. All I did was lose myself to myself, wallowing in everything that had ever happened to me. I knew I would have to move on, but I couldn't—not by myself. But that didn't mean I wanted help, and all that did was put me through a vicious cycle. And that was okay, it was okay. Like Edward had mentioned, I shouldn't let others suffer just because I was. Normally, I wouldn't care what others would suggest, especially Edward, but there was something beneath that resentment for him that muted everything I thought I hated. There was something about him that made people do the right thing. He was just like Carlisle and Esme—burning with hospitality. A part of me hoped Emmett wouldn't be the same, just so there was someone else—just so I didn't feel left out.

I curled my lips in self-disgust. That wasn't me. What were the Cullen's doing to me? They were changing me. They made me face fears, they made me scared, but not lost. They were there, even when I didn't want them to be, but even then, they didn't walk away. And all I did was push, push, push. Persistence was never more evident until Emmett had come.

I just had to expose myself to the Cullen's that I couldn't let it happen again with Emmett. Even the Cullen's didn't know everything, and it would stay that way.

I brought my hands back to my hair, not realizing they were covered in dirt until it came to contact with my blonde locks. I stopped caring. What was the point of being beautiful if it couldn't be flaunted? I had nothing else but my appearance, and when it didn't matter nothing else did either. I had nothing. I was nothing. I would be in a constant standstill forever, suffering behind closed doors. No one would notice, no one would care. I'd be forever lost for the rest of my eternal life.

Anger flared through me, slamming my fist to the ground. I bit my lip hard, curling my fingers as if trying to catch the air, anything. There was nothing. There was nothing for me to hold onto or depend on, and even though I hated dependence, knowing I didn't need anyone... right now, I really think I did. I wanted someone, but I couldn't because I was too apprehensive to try. I wanted but didn't want to try. Did that make sense?

I stared at my hands, falling to the floor. My hair touched the Earth and I wanted to fall asleep. I wanted to dream of something better, but even that wasn't possible. I curled my body as if I were freezing, but I wasn't.

He wrecked my life, he would always be in my head.

He was dead, but he was still in my thoughts.

Mother, you would be so proud.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the sun, covered by the trees so only speckles of light came through. I thought about Emmett, confused at first, before scowling. He was manipulating me, trying to gain my trust by pretending that he wanted to get to know me. He was so interested and I didn't know why. No, I did know why—it was my pretty face. Men were always drawn in because of it and at that moment I wished I was just ordinary, just like Vera. He wanted to get to know the pretty face, just so he could brag. Always, it was always like that. And when he grew bored he would just hurt me. Always, it was always like that. I was nothing else. People would talk in Rochester, and people would stare, so surprised at seeing such a pleasing sight. And that was all they knew—that was all I knew.

I knew how to be pretty: just walk into a room and light it, welcoming the stares. Men flirted because of a beauteous figure, and that was what they saw. That's all I knew how to be. I went to school with average grades. I had graduated high school with no plans of going to college. I didn't even _try_. I would just be beautiful because I was so good at that.

And that was all I had.

In the situation I was in—when beauty didn't matter—I had nothing else to offer. I was not hospitable, nice, or helpful.

Repulsed, I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep. I had nothing to offer Emmett, so why was he so nice? There was no reason to be nice to people you didn't care about, but he was. He was up to something and I would be one step ahead. I wouldn't let him in—he'd stay out like everyone else.

It was all Royce's fault.

I didn't deserve it. He knew I was nothing more than gorgeous, and he took advantage of that. It was as if he were trying to teach me a lesson, that beauty would get me nowhere. And it didn't. I was such a fool. People were fools—unreliable fools.

It was all my fault.

I would have cried, I would have screamed, but I heard footsteps close by and came up from the ground, crouching low. I probably looked like a mess but like usual, I didn't care.

Tides of wariness rolled in my stomach before I heard his voice say, "Rosalie! Hey, Rosalie, are you in there?" he hollered, his footsteps getting closer. Trepidation flowed through me and I stood up, looking around me, trying to find out where he could be. My teeth ground together as time ticked by, his voice getting closer. It was as if he was running in circles while yelling my name, making his general location impossible.

I was heaving, my hair whipping in several different directions.

"Rosalie, are you okay?" I heard him shout from behind me and at an alarming speed turned. I couldn't see him but I knew he was getting close. He wasn't running, thank God for that. My skin felt clammy even though that wasn't possible. I hesitated for a fraction of a second before I turned and ran off away from him. I thought I would be able to surrender myself and receive salvation, but it was easier said than done. I couldn't be susceptible, I couldn't let him see me so defenseless.

So I ran away from him, I ran away from Emmett.

It was the simplest thing to do.

I ran south, I ran to North Carolina. I had been doing so well, just ignoring them. Edward made me get to know him, made me relinquish all my fears for all to see when I didn't want them to be seen. I had smiled and laughed slightly, letting myself be laid bare. I almost gave in.

And sometimes I wished I had. What was it like to have someone, to find the Carlisle that Esme had found? What was it like to let yourself go? What was it like to show your fears? What was it like, giving someone the chance to hurt you, and trusting them not to? What was trust? I wanted to know, to feel, to taste, like she did every morning, afternoon, and evening without hesitance. And at the same time, I didn't want to.

I spent nearly all day in North Carolina, away from people. I didn't want to be envious. By the end of the day I had walked to South Carolina and contemplated turning back. Maybe I was meant to be alone. Maybe I was meant to leave the Cullen's to try and find myself by myself. Maybe Virginia was just one of those obstacles that I had to walk past—which I had. Turning forward, I continued alone, passing the border that split the North and South, heading further and further from Virginia.

For the first time, I felt more alone than ever.

I was gone.

The Cullen's were never there.

My family was thousands of miles away.

There was no one to turn to. Strangers didn't seem comforting. And never had I felt more lost and scared and alone and hopeless in my life.

I would give anything to be human again, to just go back before Royce. Without my humanity I just felt numb and cold and lifeless. I was just a walking corpse without emotion, feelings, and life. I walked an empty world and tumbled through nothingness. I was nothing but foreign to even myself. I wish there was someone here. I wouldn't run away that time. I wasn't even one hundred percent sure because my distorted judgment was skewered. I would try to stick around, at least. I really would.

Just show me that you care.

Just tell me that you love me.

Horrified by my thoughts I paused mid-step, trying to gauge my internal struggles, only to be interrupted.

"You know, I'm all up for a game of hide-and-seek. In fact, I was always the best at it even though I was the biggest, but next time, let's just try to stick to staying in the state, or even the town, okay?"

My head shot up at the sound of his voice, my eyes widening greatly. I paused for a moment before turning around quickly, my eyes scanning, searching for his. When our eyes met it was as if everything had slowed down. We were frozen pieces in time.

"I—" I started, unable to finish. Truth be told, I didn't know what to say. What was I feeling: rejoice, happiness, anguish, anger, confusion? It was like I wasn't feeling anything at all.

He didn't move, his body tense despite the easiness of the sound of his voice. My eyes were all over the place, but my body was still. My mouth was slightly parted, my eyes losing focus and blurring. There was pain on the inside of my chest, but it was a different kind of pain that was strangling my insides. The pressure was still pulsating and the intensity was just like fire, but something was off. The pain I was feeling was hurting—just like any kind of pain—but it wasn't the kind that made me feel like I was dying. I couldn't identify it, I just knew that this kind of tightening pain was something I had never felt before.

"Aren't you going to give me hug? Actually, you're kind of dirty. Um... hi," he finally said, still keeping his distance.

I looked at the floor, just away from his face. When I came back to his eyes he was still looking at me and I licked my lips, my voice coming out cracked. "Hi," I whispered languidly. I almost smiled at his sense of humour.

He smiled solemnly at me and waited. For what? I didn't know. Except this time, I cared. I wanted to know. I wish I could be as careless as him, but if he was so careless why did he find me? I knew it couldn't have been a fluke.

I hated the feeling of not knowing. It would be more fitting to just run again, but I was tired. I didn't want to care, but I did—I really, really did. I felt a prickling feeling inside of me at the memory of everything before the Cullen's. I remembered the faces I wanted to forget, but would never stop remembering.

He didn't deserve it, not without an explanation. And since I would never explain, he just didn't deserve it. Nobody did. I would never swallow my pride, but I never had it to begin with. Royce had taken it away from me.

I didn't want to fight countless pointless battles. They would never know what had happened to me, but they wouldn't be suffering because I was. I wouldn't be like Royce, not now, not ever. Never.

"Emmett—" I started, my voice strangled.

He was startled for a moment before just listening.

I breathed in deeply. "I'm... sorry." I blinked a few and inhaled.

He smiled again except it was brighter, stronger.

"For what?" he asked, and I stared at him, stunned. Immediately, he continued, "I'm joking Rosalie! It's okay, okay?"

No it's not okay.

"It really is," he said, like he could read my mind. It was probably just written across my face. It usually was.

"Why are you so forgiving?" I asked tiredly, giving up. I couldn't handle his calmness. It was nothing like I had ever seen before.

"Why shouldn't I be? You could wallow in hate, or you can just get over it and move on."

Oh darling, if only it were that easy.

There it was again, him playing me. There he was, the very antithesis of me. There he was, so unnerving and complicated without realizing it. But even then, I looked at him warily and found it hard to find the evil bone in his body. Confusion warred fear and I didn't know what to do. Seeing Emmett didn't drag me down into the pits of Hell, it left me standing between both Heaven and the Underworld. I was still on Earth.

He was either playing me for a fool or just the oblivious.

And if he was a fool, at least he wouldn't leave me—at least not now—and that was okay. I could live with that. People were never constant, and I knew that, but for the time being Emmett would have to do until I found someone else or until I felt better. So at that moment and maybe a couple of days, I could hold onto him. He was something different, someone more tolerable than Edward. And before he had the chance to hurt me, before he had the chance to get to know me and realize there was nothing beyond my face and hair, I would leave. I would hurt him before he could to me.

My hate wasn't to Emmett.

It was to myself.

I was worth nothing. I wasn't strong enough to fight back both to Royce and my mother, only when it was too late. I was reckless, a ticking time bomb that even the Cullen's couldn't predict. I was ruled by volatile emotions, running off and coming back. I was miserable, always suffering by myself. I was alone, always alone.

Occupying myself with cars made me momentarily forget, as did the Cullen's—even Emmett. And they would do—for now. Because that was all I had: weakness, but at least I had accepted it. As long as they never saw it I would be fine.

"Rosalie?" Emmett asked, breaking my trance, staring at me with wide sand curious eyes.

"What?" I asked him, surprised and defensive.

He laughed a bit under his breath, not seeing my resistance or just not caring. "I said come on, let's go back. Someone's got to teach me cars besides Edward. He's too—"

"Moody?"

"I was going to say—"

"Know-it-all?"

He laughed harder. "Now I see the sibling love in the air."

"Yeah, you sure can." I scoffed, crossing my arms, amused by his amusement. I just didn't let him know what I was thinking.

Why did I feel such ease? Was it because he wasn't like the Cullen's, that he wasn't swirled around hospitality? Was it because he was so outlandish and carefree? Was it because he was everything I wanted to be? He wasn't careless, he was care_free_. He lived the day for what it was worth. He wasn't overbearing and he knew how to let things go. He had no idea just how agreeable he was.

I contemplated getting away from Virginia but I knew after what I had done, I couldn't be alone. Even if I was surrounded by people I didn't have a hold onto, even if they were just something more than a stranger to me, I needed them. Emmett was comforting, and I knew deep down that the sight of Edward would be too. I had just gotten used to them—I had gotten used to the talks with Esme, the understandings with Carlisle, and the debacles with Edward. Even if they weren't the _happiest_ things, they were there and that was what made me feel _normal_ at least, having that kind of constant. Without them everything I had built would be lost, and I would be lost again.

I gave him a tight smile that probably didn't look like a smile at all and walked to him. That was a big step, getting so close. But I did and he thought nothing of it, just smiled back at me and motioned to start running. So we ran at first, but when we were close and in Virginia we decided to walk. It was dusk out, but we didn't need the light. It would be as if it never got dark. I didn't mind the dark, not since I could clearly see what was out there.

We hadn't spoken as we ran, but as we started to walk Emmett did all the talking and I tried to listen. Even when I zoned out, he carried on, either not knowing or not caring. He had so much to say, but I wasn't paying attention so I didn't know if he was making sense. I still kept my distance from him, but he didn't seem to mind. He talked about what Edward and him had accomplished with the car, even though it was probably just Edward's doing.

More than once I caught myself almost smiling as he said stupid and silly things. He wasn't wary of where to step and there was no line he was careful of crossing. He was already past the line, well over a thousand miles away from it. He said things that he clearly didn't think about first, but he didn't care. And soon I didn't either and nothing was offensive anymore. He still didn't make me laugh, but I wasn't sure if he had caught the secret smiles or not. I didn't want to know.

It was like the whole incident of me running away was forgotten because he never brought it up. It was like we had just taken a walk together. I would like to believe that actually happened instead of what truly transpired.

We were just about a mile away from the house when Emmett stopped. I stared at him, confused. He looked slightly serious.

"Edward said some things—"

"What did he say?" I asked, immediately defensive.

He smiled at my withstanding attitude and started to motion with his hands. "No, no, no. It wasn't anything like that. He just told me that you were different and that I have to be careful—"

"What?" I interrupted again, my voice low.

He shut his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. "I think he meant it in the best way possible, Rosalie. I mean, he threatened to hurt me if I hurt you. He wanted to give you space but I knew I must have done something so I went after you. He didn't want me to but he eventually relented. And then he said those... things."

I didn't know how to possibly digest that. "So the piano playing, please and thank you saying, I know everything and am so smart, Edward said that?"

Emmett chuckled. "That's the one." He continued to walk again and I followed.

People were such strange fools. And the fact that Edward was actually _nice_ never failed to surprise me.

I sighed. Niceness was something I still hadn't grasped a good hold on.

"Emmett, I just want to say that what happ—"

He held both his hands up, stopping me. "It's done, over, a thing of the past. You probably don't want to talk about it, so why would I let you suffer? You're sorry, I'm sorry, we're all sorry. Let's save our problems for tomorrow, okay?"

His forgiveness would never fail to surprise me either.

Edward had his niceness and Emmett had his forgiveness. What did I have?

"Okay," I agreed, deciding to let it go too.

If only I could.

"Good," he said, believing me. "Now come on my sweet little Buick, I bet Edward's waiting and Carlisle and Esme are having panic attacks wondering where we went—if you know what I mean," he winked and I just stared at him.

What did he mean? "Where would we go together?" I asked, not getting his winks and grins he seemed to be doing a lot of.

His grin soon faltered and he stumbled as he said, "Uh, nowhere—just... away." I gave him one last stare before shaking my head and walking past him. I didn't understand him.

I hadn't gotten past five steps when I realized something. I suddenly paused and turned, observing him. "Did you just call me a Buick? As in… the car?" We were just a couple of steps away from the house.

"Yeah, why?" he asked cautiously, slowing down his steps.

"Emmett, if you compare me to a car, you'd call me your sweet little Cadillac. Edward's a Buick. Or a Bentley. Even a bitch—that son of a bitch," I muttered the last part, hoping Edward would still hear me. I knew he could. That's what he got for saying stuff about me. I turned and kept walking, not seeing Emmett anymore.

"Okay then, my sweet little Cadillac," he said behind me suavely.

I paused again, but this time I just turned my head to him. "My name's Rosalie. You can only call me a Cadillac when I actually have one."

He faked anguish and said to me, mock frustrated. "Okay, I give up! Cars will be yours and Edward's territory. I'll stick to sports or something," he muttered animatedly, sarcastically defensive.

I turned around again and walked ahead of him and back to the house. "You do that," I said to him, smiling on both ends that time.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

When we got back the house was quiet. Upon closer inspection, we found that they were all in just one room: the garage. I hesitated, not knowing if I could go in and face their faces, which wasn't Rosalie-like at all—what were these people doing to me? I had stopped moving and Emmett turned to me, giving me a reassuring look and even holding his hand out for me. I didn't take it (naturally) and took a deep breath before straightening myself. Emmett chuckled at me and I glared at him, sealing his mouth shut.

I walked past him and opened the door, where Edward, Esme, and Carlisle was. For once, we were together as usually one of us was never there—usually me.

But once I saw their faces I retreated and they didn't stop me, leaving Emmett to fend for himself. I heard him chuckle lightly and I would assume he watched me run off, but he stayed put. I heard their murmured voices, but soon I mostly heard only Edward talking. He must have been reading their minds. Emmett must already know. I didn't know he knew.

I listened to what I could and tried to put the pieces together. Apparently, Emmett was trying to cover for me even though I knew they knew what had happened. They just pretended like they didn't. Esme had declared she was going to go to my room but Emmett stopped her. That surprised me. Maybe Emmett wasn't so bad after all—at least he knew when to not intrude.

Soon I grew bored of their conversation and drifted off. I would have fallen asleep if I could. I tried. I closed my eyes for probably an hour and was still awake. It was dark out. There was nothing to do. Could I spend an eternity living like this? I spent the whole night wondering.

* * *

I was still on my bed by morning, twiddling my fingers and staring at the ceiling. My eyes were half open and I thought I felt sleep at one point before waking up again. I tried to get that feeling to come back but I ended up over-thinking it and it never did come back.

I had heard Carlisle leave very early and didn't know how to feel about it. He wasn't really around as much as he said he would be—though I did see him more than what I did in Rochester.

_Rochester_. I tried not to think about it. I tried to forget about, but I still remembered, and I think it still had a place in me, but not in my heart because that didn't exist. Not anymore.

I also heard Esme leave at one point but didn't catch where she was going. I didn't care. Edward and Emmett were in the garage and I didn't even bother trying to listen to them. I thought about my own things after that but was disturbed when I heard Emmett's voice exclaim something. I heard the door open and for quite a while they were gone.

Sitting up, I looked around my room. The walls were barren and it looked like I just moved in. I didn't care about sprucing it up—no one would see it anyways, so what was the point? Beauty was fleeting, I realized. And now, I had nothing. What a depressing thought.

Pushing it far from my mind I stood up and walked out my bedroom door. I looked around, gnawing my bottom lip slightly and noticing the house was empty. The front door was wide open and I walked over and couldn't see Edward or Emmett. They must have went hunting.

I thought I saw something in the air and walked forward, trying to catch it. The feeling of it was almost foreign because I had not seen it in months—rain. There was a slight drizzle, misting the air around it. My eyes were wide and curious because it was finally raining, obliterating the never ending dust. I spent quite a while outside, getting only my hand wet. My sleeve was getting damp too and I pulled back. If I wanted to get soaked I would have taken a bath.

Closing the door firmly, I turned from the door and walked around the house. Things were changing, and I never would. America just got itself out of the Depression and I wasn't a part of it. I guess I should be thankful but I wasn't. I tried not to think about it too much, but like I knew, I did.

So I went to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, and started to play Beyond the Blue Horizon. I had gotten Vera to teach me how to play it on the piano after we saw Monte Carlo. I still hadn't quite mastered it and I didn't know when I would. It sounded beautiful in the movie, and if only I could make it beautiful too. I remembered the lyrics and mumbled them as I played because I wasn't much of a singer, and it made everything more difficult.

Vera and I had sneaked in the drive-in by climbing a fence, and when we were caught, we hid behind cars. We surrounded ourselves around the people who weren't effected by the Depression at the cinema. They had been in their cars with their crisp clothes, wasting a dime on movies when most couldn't even afford the two cent paper. The drive-in had been very new and we were curious, and curiosity got the best of us. I had told Nate and Tom about it too and we saw one movie before our mother caught us and forbade us from going anymore.

The drive-in was fascinating—more fascinating than the radio I had at home. We only sneaked into a couple of movies, the fear of getting caught surrounding us. Then came Royce and movies were forgotten.

I heard Emmett and Edward return at one point, hearing Emmett say that the rain just started. He wanted to ask me to come outside but Edward said to forget about it and they went to the garage without even saying anything to me even though they knew I was here. I didn't know whether to be glad or not.

I tried to come back to what I had been thinking. I hadn't seen a movie since... since I was human. The last one I had seen was I'm No Angel with Royce. I remembered Mae West on screen and wishing I would be like Tira at the end of it. Wishing I would too get the wealth, fame, and husband like she. I had looked at Royce at the end of the movie and believed it.

I had the sudden urge to see a movie, except I had no money. I didn't need it though because I knew I could sneak in. Money made things easier—I had known since I met Royce—but did it make things better?

Idly playing the piano with no song in mind, I ended up playing a bunch of jumbled keys in an off-note mess. I kept it that way, not really feeling like playing anything, when when Emmett came bursting through, his eyes wide and mouth agape, disrupting my God awful playing. I stopped moving my fingers and started up at him.

He had startled me when he came in, and I was slightly afraid that he was dazed and needed something to eat, but when his eyes were still just a simple topaz colour I knew that couldn't be it. He must have went hunting with Edward earlier. Still, I kept my distance, slowly getting up and keeping the baby grand piano between us. My fingers were splayed on the cool keys, curling slightly when he came forward.

My mouth was hard and closed tight, my body still as I regarded him. He must have expected me to say something because when I didn't he waited, his eyes and mouth still wide open.

"Okay, Rosalie, you can't know what I'm so excited about if you don't ask."

Oh. Well. "What if I don't care?" I asked him coolly, tilting my head to the right and raising a brow at him, the piano forgotten. I wasn't really there when I had been playing it either.

He didn't catch on, instead, he just brushed my icily voice. "At least pretend! Oh—just come here," he said, motioning me over with his hand. I just stared at it before turning from him and leaving the room. I was busy. I didn't need to hang out with him.

I heard him groan behind me and walk up to me, his footsteps heavy. I turned around quickly, glaring at him and he immediately paused. The surprise etched on his face only lasted a short while though, for he started to smile. What was up with him?

"Come on Rosalie, you've got to come outside—"

"Why? Is it the Apocalypse?"

"No! Even better—it's raining!" Excitement bounced off every word he said, every move he made, which was such a contrast to my stoic figure.

"I know. Great," I replied, faking enthusiasm. Emmett frowned and I almost laughed, his expression changing so drastically in one second. Despite his tall burly figure he was nothing but a child at heart—his frozen heart, at least.

"I haven't seen rain in months, you should see!"

"Why don't you just show Edward?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Edward's seen it already, come on!" He tried to persuade me, but when I didn't budge he stalked off, muttering something along the way that I didn't listen to.

I had just got back to the piano and was about to play a song when I could see Emmett come in again, his hands behind his back. I tried to ignore him, but when I saw something that resembled silk behind him my eyes perked up and I eyed him warily. His smile was broad and he was watching me, batting his lashes as if nothing was wrong.

I sighed. "What Emmett?"

"Oh nothing. It's just, it would be a shame if this beautiful silk blouse got destroyed in the rain." His voice got a couple of octaves higher and I stared at him with disgust at his horrible attempt at whatever he was trying to achieve. I didn't even want to know. But that quickly vanished when I saw in his hands my favourite cream coloured blouse Esme had bought me.

I narrowed my eyes at Emmett. "Don't you dare, Emmett," I seethed, curling my fingers into my palms. He started to walk back and I stood from the stool. "Take one more step and I swear— "

"What, Rosalie? What could you—"

He never did get to finish his sentence because I had tackled him, but I hadn't sent him straight to the ground like I anticipated, for he only stumbled a couple of steps but still stood erect. That had caught me by surprise because I had literally _jumped_ on him, and I expected to be the one crashing onto the floor but my feet had yet to touch the ground.

My eyes had also been close, so as I opened them I heard laughter—laughter coming from Emmett. I looked up at him, glaring, as he looked down onto me, chortling.

"Have you not seen me, Rosalie? Have you not seen my muscled body and your limber one?" Emmett said through his laughter and my glare intensified. When he didn't even look at me—didn't even look me in the eyes—I grabbed onto his shirt and pulled, trying to get him to look at me. I still had no idea that one of his arms was around my waist, hoisting me up the side of his body. I think I was too angry to care.

"Emmett!" I screamed at him, and he tried to stop and stare, but his giggles still emitted through. But he did manage to look at me with raised brows and I pulled his shirt even harder.

I hadn't expected it to rip, but then again, I didn't know my own strength. My eyes tore themselves from his and onto the shirt, pieces in my hands. I wiped them together, letting the remains fall onto the floor, watching them as they fell. It was when my eyes were on the ground that I realized my feet were still in mid-air. Among closer inspection, I realized Emmett had been holding me.

I froze.

He noticed.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled at him, squirming in his arms. I managed to escape his hold much easier than I thought, but I assumed it was because he let me go easily, not bothering to keep a hold onto me if I didn't want him to. Why wasn't he relentless? Why did he let things go?

My back was turned to him when he spoke. "Hey, you're the one that jumped on me, remember?" he said half jokingly.

I turned around and glowered at him and his smile immediately fell, but soon it came back tenfold, not taking me seriously

"What?" I exclaimed, seething.

He didn't stop smiling. I didn't think he ever would. "You're so cute when you're angry," he said and when I glared at him more his laughter increased.

"Augh!" I groaned, stomping my foot. I stomped close to him and pushed him, also attempting to grab my shirt, but he had expected that and moved it out of the way. I continued to yell at him, curse at him even worse things than I had said to Edward, completely out of control.

Emmett's laughter soon died down when he realized I was angry and tried to get me to stop. He said things in a vain attempt to soothe me, but I didn't stop. I hit him on the chest and started to push him into the walls, but with my lack of strength compared to him moving him was very minimal. That made me even more livid, more frustrated.

Realizing that I wouldn't stop, Emmett did the one thing he could to silence me: he wrapped one arm around my waist, sealing my arms, and put one had over my mouth. I tried to yell at him but the words came out muffled.

"Shh, my little Cadillac. There are other people in the house and you have to be considerate."

Using my foot, I kicked him as hard as I could, and thought that didn't hurt him, he had let go of me.

"Until you get me a Cadillac, my name is Rosalie!" I bellowed at him, completely and utterly over Emmett. He wasn't funny anymore and I went back to the piano, ignoring him. It wasn't until I had sat down and he had gotten up that I remembered about my shirt. Trying to conceal my anger, I raced back to him, but Emmett caught one and ran away from me and to the front door, not giving up. He was pushing my boundaries, but I had a feeling I was already long gone.

I was fuming and breathing heavily, and paid no attention to rain I hadn't seen in what felt like forever. Emmett was outside, his body getting drenched, and his hand was inside, holding my shirt. I stared at him. His shirt was torn, raindrops falling onto part of his exposed chest. My eyes lingered longer than necessary, tracing the contours of his body, his shirt slowly attaching itself to his flesh as if it were his second skin.

He wouldn't be able to tell I was staring at him though, because I was frowning all the while, my mouth shut and ready to explode at any given moment.

I couldn't believe he was still cracking jokes. "An eye for an eye Rosalie? You wrecked my shirt, well... it's only fair the same happens to yours." When I didn't answer he continued, "Aw, come on Cadillac."

I didn't care about the shirt anymore. It could be easily replaced, just like other possessive things. There was more to vanity and materialistic things: like killing Emmett. So instead of screaming at him I went for a silent attack, practically flying off the ground and into him. He hadn't expected it that time and was sent to ground—the muddy terrain below. My shirt fell from his hand but I didn't care.

"My name is Rosalie," I started, getting up from his body as he still lay, sinking into the mud. It wasn't long till he got up too. "And touch my things again and I will— "

But I didn't get to finish my sentence because as Emmett got up and tried to walk over his foot slipped, sending him tumbling back to the ground. That had caught me by surprise, and the by the surprised look on his face, I couldn't help but let myself laugh at his stupidity. He attempted to get up again and just like I expected, he just fell right back down, mud soon covering his body and concealing his clothes.

My laughter erupted harder, seemingly unaware of the rain flattening my hair and soaking my clothes. My hands were on my thighs as I doubled over. At first I tried to keep my mouth closed but laughter overpowered me and soon my mouth was open, my amusement ringing through the rain. I didn't know how many times he attempted to get up after the second because my eyes were closing and reopening time to time, my chortling getting louder and louder.

When he did manage to get up he said, "You think that's funny? Me getting hurt? You just laugh at my pain, don't you Rosalie?" I couldn't even take him seriously because the imagine replayed itself in my mind.

"Because it's funny," I barely managed to say. It was strange how quickly anger dissolved into delight. I didn't think he knew how much he affected me, how he changed like the weather.

I couldn't stop laughing no matter how angry his voice got, but even I knew it was a lie because angry and Emmett could never fit in a sentence together unless "is not" and any other variation was in between the words.

Emmett tried to talk to me, but knowing that he couldn't stop me, he resorted in one of the worst things possible: throwing mud at me. I immediately stop laughing and turn to him, my face appalled, my eyes and mouth wide, and my brows furrowed. After a moment I looked down to my leg—where he had hit me—before looking back at him. Now it was his turn to laugh.

"Emmett, what did you do that for?" I asked him, exclaiming.

"You look prettier like that. No wait—" he stopped himself, reaching for more mud. Then he threw it at me, that time getting the side of my thigh, quicker than intended because I had no chance to get out of the way. "Like that," he finished, laughing all the while.

"You did not— "

"You've got to stop being so negative. When you tell me not to do things, Rosalie, I'm most likely going to do them and—" he tried to say, but I silenced him by throwing the muddy terrain at his shoulder.

I smiled triumphantly but after a moment realized what I had done and looked at my hands. They were now caked in brown dirt, getting under my nails and inside every crevice. I was also too busy paying attention to my hands so I failed to notice Emmett coming to me, tackling me to the ground.

_WHAM!_

_I felt something slam behind me and I fell forward, but I was able to catch myself from falling. I could smell his breath and I knew that touch. It was a touch I wanted to forget, but knew I could never stop remembering._

I immediately struggled, punching and kicking and thrashing about from underneath him.

_I couldn't stop them. My body was numb and cold. I was pinned down, but I didn't know by who. I didn't know if I wanted it to be Royce. I was on the ground and was too shocked to cry, and in too much pain to move. I felt hands, large and rough, and I wished I couldn't feel._

"Get off of me!" I yelled at him and felt him roll off of me, his eyes wide and wondering what was wrong. Everything was wrong.

My mood had changed drastically as I practically threw Emmett's arm off of me to stop it from touching my skin. It flew across the air and dragged his body with it so he was now lying face down on the floor. Taking my chance, I jumped up and contemplated kicking him when he was down but resisted and instead fled into the house, running to the bathroom and shutting the door.

I turned the tap on but didn't shed my clothes, instead, falling to the floor with my back pressed against the door. I closed my eyes and kept my mouth in a hard line, biting my bottom lip from the inside. I was frozen in place, but within a couple of seconds I cracked as I sobbed as silently as possible, putting both my hands over my mouth and letting my head fall back. My feet slid across the smooth floor till my legs were outstretched. Soon I fell too, lying on the floor.

_I could hear them behind me though. Their footsteps rang into my ears and I felt like crying. I wanted to cry. The cold winds were like frozen hands clawing at me, slowly numbing my body. I wasn't warm anymore and my energy was draining. The footsteps grew louder. The voice intensified. I heard Royce yelling._

I shot up from the floor and I almost fell back down had I not held onto the tub. My clothes clung to my body and I started to take them off.

"_It's hard to tell," he began, his words slurring, "she's all covered up."_

The shirt was barely over my head and that was where I left it. I held onto the tub tightly, breathing in and out. I vaguely heard Emmett's voice but it was drowned out by Edward's. I bet he had been in my head at least once since the incident. I bet he was trying to care.

I took choked breaths, strangled and lost. Leaving my clothes on, so dirty and brown, I climbed into the tub, not caring that it would not be white after this. I just sat there, curling my toes and fingers, trying to breathe. I dunked my head in and wanted to see how long I could hold my breath till I realized I did not need to breathe at all. Death was harder when you were not human.

Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off. Oh how I wished I could. I tried to get up but it was as if someone was pushing me down.

_My legs felt the cool air and I knew my skirt had been pulled up. I couldn't kick because someone was holding me down. Then I heard a tearing noise and I knew something had been torn off of me. I tried to push them off and ended up with a punch to the ribs. I cried out and felt someone hit me again._

When I surfaced my boundaries were pushed and I cried. I wasn't loud but I didn't try to hide in silence. But realizing that Emmett could have heard me and see me so weak, I put my head back underwater, letting myself go there. The world was blurry and bright so I closed my eyes.

I had to do something, anything. I felt like I was on fire, as if I was burning. The water was dirty and I could feel chunks of mud floating on the surface and under the water with me. I didn't feel invincible despite being inhuman. I felt as if I had lost everything that was previously mine. I was in a house full of strangers I wanted to trust but couldn't. There was no beginning and there would be no ending. Here. That's what it would be, always.

I was restless. I never did run out of oxygen. I couldn't freeze. I couldn't suffocate. Was there any way of going away? Too much engery to think, not really caring to know. I was shaking with death as I resurfaced silently, not taking a gulp of air like I would have needed to if I were human. What if I used the radio and brought it with me here? Maybe later. Maybe not. I drained the tub quickly before refilling with clear water that got dirty again, but it wasn't as brown. I felt the non-existent blood in my veins rushing and collinding and searching for release.

I started to hurt.

"_Stop it! Royce—" I screamed—_

"Stop it! Royce—" I screamed—

Everything happened so fast that I had almost no chance to witness it. My body was taken out of the water and onto the floor. I could smell Esme's perfume and felt her arms around me, getting wet and dirty and still not caring. I couldn't think straight. I felt I was drowning even though I was out of the water. I felt weak and bouts of energy burst through me, running through me at the speed of light. I felt like I was dying, and in a way, I didn't mind. If only I could carry out those ideas.

Esme didn't try to calm me down and I was thankful for that. All she did was hold me and I didn't resist. I didn't know if she was expecting me to.

When would this pain stop? Today? Tomorrow? Never? I wanted for it to so badly stop, to just go away. It was all my fault for being there, for letting Royce in. And now I was making the same mistake. It was like I wanted to be victimized again. I was so stupid. Why had I apologized ot him? Why had I let myself go after him? What was it about him? Royce came to me, and now I was coming to Emmett. It was two different things, yet they were the same. Maybe Emmett and I were alike, except he didn't have any problems.

"I'm sorry," I heard close by, swearing it was Emmett's voice. I stiffened and peaked at him from behind Esme's hair. He was standing far from the open door, but he didn't have to be up close to see the burning in his eyes. "I didn't—it was just a joke and I—"

"It's okay," I sputtered from Esme's arms. I said anything to get him to leave, just telling him what he wanted to hear.

"No. Just go," I said tiredly and I heard Emmett start to say something and Esme's hair brush against mine. Then I heard Emmett mutter something, but not angrily or disdainfully, and turn away. He did not shut the door.

I tore myself from Esme and whispered brokenly, "I hate this. Why am I like this? Don't answer that. Can I stay with you for a while?"

She got what I meant and agreed. And I didn't see Emmett a lot after that, leaving him with Edward. I was back to where I started.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

For the next week I occupied myself with the cars and helping Esme, and even going to town with her. Esme let my forwardness slide with her, but after a couple of days grew suspicious. I closed myself easily, already holding that skill when it came to Edward, but soon she grew restless. I knew she would.

"He's trying Rosalie. He just wants to know you," she said as she fixed sandpapering a table. We were in the living room, near the open window.

"How do you know that?" I whispered to her, my eyes downcast. My lips barely parted as I said the words, my hair falling in front of my face. My fingertips traced the smooth surface of the table Esme had made on her own.

She hesitated, putting the sandpaper down and staring at me. "He doesn't know what he did wrong, and that's the thing, Rosalie: he didn't do anything wrong. But because you're avoiding him he thinks he did. Edward says he's—"

"I don't care what Edward said," I mumbled, focusing on the task at hand.

I breathed out, frustrated. I turned to Esme and looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "Why should I even care whether or not he's happy? The only person I'm worried about right now is myself, and that's how it's going to stay. If he wants to think about what he did wrong then fine, I'm not going to stop him. He can either wallow in the corner or _get over it_."

"You have no idea how hypocritical you sound," I heard from across the room.

"Was I talking to you Edward?"

He ignored me. "Maybe there's more to life than yourself. Maybe Emmett is _wallowing in the corner_ because he cares about you and wants to apologize, but he doesn't even know where to start. You should be saying sorry, not him."

"Get out, Esme and I were having a conversation before you rudely interrupted. And besides, I don't care what he even has to say anyways, so you can tell him to just suck it up and move on."

"And you shouldn't?" I knew he wanted me to say something—to catch his bait. I didn't. He continued anyways and I didn't think I could stop him if I even tried. "Everything with Royce?"

"Edward..." Esme warned.

"No, Mom, I think Rosalie should hear this. Everything with Royce has you wallowing in the corner doesn't it? Why don't you just get over it? Why don't you just suck it up and move on?" He looked at me expectantly, challengingly.

I glared at him. "You son of a bitch," I seethed out, curling my hands.

"Because you can't—not right now," he continued, "and maybe he can't right now either. So don't go telling Emmett what to do when you can't even do it yourself, or else you're just as hypocritical as I said you were."

"I'm hypocritical? _I'm hypocritical?_ Emmett!" I yelled, and when he appeared by the doorway at nearly lightning speed I said, "Come on Emmett, we're going hunting." And without a chance to even protest, I grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the house, giving Edward a fleeting glare along the way.

The look on Emmett's face as I pulled him in my direction was nothing short of surprise. I let it pass and tried to clear my head to prevent Edward from hearing denial, but I knew even he knew the things I thought about even before I thought of it. He was so perceptive and I didn't know whether I liked him or hated him because of it.

What was I saying? Of course I hated it.

As I held onto Emmett's wrist he did not resist, but I saw his mouth open and close, his voice stammering and sputtering. His eyes were transfixed on my hand—my fingers not long enough to entrap his wrist.

My face was nothing but a frozen mask, my eyes dark and my brows furrowed. My mouth was set in a hard line as I pursed my lips together, ready to break apart at any given second. Emmett knew that too, for he didn't say a word the entire way—or unable to.

When I pulled him along far enough, and when I was sick and tired of his astonishment that seemed to never go away, I broke contact with him and glared at him, as if he were Edward as well. He was, in a way: both were the source of my problems.

"What?" I yelled, my eyes feral.

Emmett flinched. He actually _flinched._ His eyes were wide and he put his hands up as if signaling for me to stop. His brows shot up and he leaned back slightly. Pausing, I sighed, and regarded him for a moment. I cursed out into nothing and stomped my feet before turning my back towards him.

As much as I wished it wasn't true it was: Edward was right. Like hell I was going to think of it let alone tell him though.

"Don't you just _hate_ Edward, Emmett? Don't you?" I asked, sneering.

He didn't wait. "No."

It was my turn to sputter.

"I don't hate you either Rosalie. I mean, you can spend forever hating someone or you can try to make amends."

"Amends?" I asked him, surprised at what he was saying.

"It's easier than hating someone. Why let yourself suffer for the way someone just is? Edward is... Edward. He's caring—almost insufferably so. He's trying. He helped me be like this and not... not crazy or killing humans. I got to give it to him, he's doing his best to make me belong, even if he kinda sucks at it." Emmett laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke.

And I was surprised that he saw Edward in such a light. That insufferable bastard actually had a _good_ side? All he did was push me, make me angry, and made me want to murder him.

But why? What was his intention? All Edward made me want to do was avoid him, therefore I would spend a lot of time alone. All he did was provoke me, make me react, make me talk to Emmett about cars, and make me drag Emmett to the woods—

How had I not seen it before?

Edward was making me get to _know_ Emmett.

So why wasn't I angry?

I groaned at the realization that I did not _hate_ Edward. I couldn't stand him some times yes, but hate? No. And I kind of wished I could. Underneath that son of a bitch was a heart that escaped being frozen after transformation.

"Why are you right?" I asked, groaning again. I let my head tip back, staring at the sky.

I heard Emmett chuckle. I shifted my eyes at him, trying to glare, and he didn't stop laughing. He was now desensitized to my stare. I didn't know what to think about that.

"You're not angry at me, Rosalie. You're just angry that you're wrong.

"I'm not wrong Emmett. I'm just not right."

That made him laugh even harder. I walked over to him and pushed him on the shoulder, telling him to stop. I wasn't even able to push him back a couple of steps—he hadn't moved at all. I never realized how big he was, how he could probably crush me with a pinch of his fingers. And despite his appearance, I knew he wouldn't hurt a thing. He had been so remorseful when he was killed a _human_.

When his laughter died down I was still glaring at him and he immediately stopped, his mouth forming a circle and I tried to hold in a smile. I turned away and he knew the look on my face so he walked around me, wanting to see my reaction, but I kept moving away. Finally restless, he lightly touched the side of my face and held me there so I was looking right at his eyes. We only lasted a couple of seconds before I pushed his arm away and started to laugh. My eyes were shut and I was facing the ground.

"They say laughter's the best medicine, Rosalie. You should do it more often."

My laughter stopped and I opened my eyes, just looking at him. I bit my tongue and he looked so sure, his smile so severe.

"I'm serious—" he started, but I interrupted.

"Are you hungry? I'm not really, but are you?" He shook his head. "Hmm, okay. Uh, what do you like anyways? Deers? Lions? Black bears?" I joked with the last part and smiled slightly.

"Hey, I may have been attacked by one but that doesn't mean I'm afraid of them. I mean, I put up a good fight and could had taken down the bear, I was just... not ready for the attack."

I raised my brows at him challengingly. He got the hint. And when he was talking it was as if he were telling a great story about battling dragons.

"Listen carefully, Rosalie. You don't want to miss this, okay? so there I was, running back to camp when all of a sudden this huge bear comes out of nowhere!" Emmett began, his eyes wide and fascinated like he was hearing the story for the first time, but that didn't make sense because he was the one telling it. He demonstrated himself running to camp like I didn't know what running was and stopped himself short by jumping in the air and attempting to replicate a bear. His mouth was open, his eyes wild, and his hands... well, his hands were up and imitating claws which threw off the whole scary vibe.

I nodded at him, playing along. He didn't seem to care whether or not I was anyways.

"Anyways, I was like, not scared, just fascinated by the bear"—what a lie—"and gave it a little wave"—another lie—"before trying to get my stuff. But it came close and I walked back as I saw it was ready to pounce. I gave a little chuckle"—lie again—"and put my fists up, also ready to fight the bear. I knew I could tackle it and bring it down, I mean, look at my arms!" What was that, three lies at once?

I nodded along, faking enthusiasm as he seemed so wrapped up in his piece of fiction. "And I was about to attack when he all of a sudden pounced on me, knocking me to the ground. We got in a brawl rolling along the floor and... and—" I almost laughed at how lost he was soon getting, trying to make up his story.

I decided to save him. "Emmett?" I asked.

He stopped trying to think and stared at me. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember how you became a vampire?"

He grinned. "Of course I do, you saved me from the bear."

"That's right. And do you know how I was able to save you?"

"Well of course. You carried me to Carlisle."

"I know that. I meant, how was I able to find you?"

"You were hunting and saw me getting attacked by the bear—oh."

"Yeah. So fabricating a story to me is kind of pointless. Don't worry," I started, giving a stage whisper, "your pseudo-manliness is saved with me."

"Pseudo-manliness?" Emmett, exclaimed, completely appalled.

I just raised my brows at him, waiting for him to retort just so I could retort back, but he didn't say anything—he looked... lost.

I scrutinized him before I realized why he was acting that way. "Fake. Artificial. Imitation. Not real. Phony. Pretend. Sham—"

"I know what pseudo means!" I stared at him, hard. "Okay, I didn't. And I'm not!"

"Sure," I replied, walking past him.

"I am!" he called after me, but I kept walking, heading nowhere in particular.

"I believe you."

"Rosalie!" he whined.

"I didn't say I didn't."

I was still walking away, smiling to myself at his frazzled state, before I felt something grab onto my wrist. I immediately whirled around, my eyes wild, and came to contact with Emmett's gold ones. I grabbed his and it was okay, but when he grabbed mine it was not. Wrists were off limits; hands were romantic.

Once we made contact with our eyes I felt Emmett's hand release itself from touching my skin. His eyes were as wild as mine, even when I relaxed slightly. My emotions changed so quickly that I didn't know if he noticed. The expression on my face softened, and I looked at the space between our hands.

It was strange how things quickly changed between us.

He vaguely knew of what had happened with Royce, and soon he was going to turn into one of them—I was sure of it. The more he knew, the more cautious he was around me. When he didn't know anything at all, it was such a change, such a clean slate. I felt real instead of different. And I missed that feeling. Sometimes his touch was nothing, and sometimes it was everything, everything bad. Like now. When I overreacted, when I thought of Royce, it just messed everything we previously had. I would compare him to Royce. I liked the moments when I could go hours without thinking of him.

I'd give almost anything for things to go back to the way they were. And I knew if I ever let him in he'd just continue to be like one them, even more than before.

"Would it help if I said... you're more of a man than Edward?" I joked, and it caught Emmett by surprise at my ease and how the tension vanished. I was trying too, it wasn't just Edward.

He stammered a bit. "Uh, yeah. But I know that." He tried to relax under my stare and soon said a few things without thinking. "Just ask any of the women I was with back in Tennessee." He reposed, grinning at the memory of whatever he was remembering. Talking was such a breeze for him, brushing things off was such an easy accomplishment. He didn't know the kind of skill he possessed.

My head tilted as I watched his emotions change, from delight to sadness, but then reverting back to delight because he knew I was there.

And I shouldn't have been so surprised, but I was. I knew Emmett wasn't chaste even in my dejected state, but it only stood at the back of my mind. And for it to be real... I shouldn't care, but for some reason I did, and even that surprised me.

"Human women?" I said, my voice completely flat. Was he mocking me? He knew how much I wanted to be human (or did he? I didn't remember if I ever said the words), so was he just throwing it back at my face.

He seemed oblivious to what I was hinting at and continued, "Yep. Just ask Betty, Shirley, Ann, Charlotte—"

"I don't care about any of them, not even Charlotte, Emmett! So please just shut up."

"Was your record better than mine? I mean, it might—I mean, you're..."

"No. It wasn't. And I'm actually proud of myself because it means I'm not any kind of flapper like you, but in your case a male flapper," I said knowingly, staring at him with such pride. My lips were pressed tightly and I blinked once, twice, thrice, at him.

He looked at me with abruptness, but that quickly changed into smugness, and now it was my turn to be confused. "You're jealous," he said as his tone held no emotion, and I couldn't read them.

"I am not," I replied outlandishly, not recognizing my own voice.

"Bullshit." He was closer, our arms touching, and a smile was plastered on his face. Except it wasn't a smile, it was more of a smirk.

I turned to him, livid. "Why would I be jealous when I could have anyone I wanted?" My voice was seething, my eyes glaring right into him. He didn't move. He was unaffected. I got so angry so fast and he stayed as calm as he could. It was so easy for him_—just a game. _

"But you can't because you're not human."

I didn't say anything. I hated how calm he was. I hated him. All the previous feeling for him when I had met him were resurfacing. But when had they sunk?

"Admit it Rose, you're jealous of the girls I was with—you're jealous of _humans_." He had never called me Rose before. The feeling was unsettling.

Emmett leaned down, his legs touched mine. At one point I must have backed into a tree.

And they weren't just Betty, Shirley, Ann, Charlotte, and however many more, they were humans named Betty, Shirley, Ann, and Charlotte. Emmett's words went deep under my skin, running through my bones. He had me there, though I wouldn't admit it. He knew where to hit me, he knew where it hurt.

"Don't call me Rose!" I yelled at him.

"Why?" His voice was still unemotional, completely unchanging.

"Because it's not my name!"

His brows furrowed and he came forward again, and I didn't turn away. "It's more than that."

I ignored him. I didn't want to get into that. He didn't need to know. Instead, I yelled at him. "You know what? You're disgusting. You brag and brag and brag! How many women have you slept with when you were human? Are you planning to have sex with me and run away, not caring at all that _you're_ not human and could kill an entire town full of them?" I couldn't stop myself. I just kept talking.

I stayed silent, trying to clear my thoughts. He was pressing his lower body against mine.

He breathed out and my voice hitched. "If I'm disgusting, why aren't you moving away?" His voice was deep and baritone, reverberating through my skin.

I was in a trance and completely lost. It took a couple of seconds but soon I realized what he was doing. Looking down, our bodies touched.

"Get off of me," I seethed and my palms were on his chest, ready to push.

"Admit you're jealous." His nose was touching the crook of my neck, his lips on my shoulder. My back against the tree I was previously standing against. His lips dragged against my skin. "Or tell me to stop. Say it, and I'll stop." I could feel his lips against my skin.

His head was down, my head was up. I closed my eyes, bringing my hands up and putting them on his shoulder, fingers pressing against his skin.

Then, as his lips moved to my ear, he whispered, "Tell me… just tell me, Rose."

Rose. Royce used to call me Rose.

I pushed Emmett. _Hard._ I sent him reeling backwards and he almost fell to the floor. I wouldn't care if he did. I sort of wished he did.

"Don't call me Rose _ever_." I was fuming. I felt anger, frustration, and saw red.

Emmett stayed where he was, looking a bit scared. He should be. I was absolutely lethal. My fingers were curled tightly and I was breathing heavily even though I didn't need to.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that, but when some of my anger simmered down I felt… scared? I didn't know what it was, but suddenly, I wanted to get away. We were outside but it felt like the world was closing in on me. I couldn't breathe. Well, I didn't have to, but I felt as if I was completely shutting down. I felt tired. First time ever.

"Rosa—"

Before he could finish I backed away from him and put my hands on my head. I wouldn't run, not this time. No matter how frightening everything was I wouldn't run. I wouldn't turn into the Rosalie I hated. And I wanted to not be afraid, but there I was... afraid. My fingers curled and held onto my blond hair, pulling a bunch of strands in different directions. He was staring at me. I hated the way he stared at me. I hated his eyes. They were topaz, yes, but I couldn't forget the colour that lay underneath them. I didn't know if I ever would and I didn't know if I ever wanted to.

I turned away from him. I turned my back to him, but didn't walk away like I would have. I waited for no one, but there I was, contradicting myself.

And then I felt him close in on me. He wasn't making a noise, he wasn't breathing, and he didn't cause a breeze, yet I knew he was there. I just felt it. Heat radiated off my cold skin, or what felt like head. What did heat feel like? I should ask Carlisle. I probably wouldn't.

It was strange how easily I talked with Emmett without even realizing it—how easily I fought back, which was even more than Edward. But this, it was different than with Edward. I hated Edward, but with Emmett, I just... I didn't know. I didn't hate him, but that didn't mean I liked him either. It was just _easier_ to be around him. And when I talked I would remember, and all I did was want to back away and leave, to stop myself from witnessing something that could potentially be great. But along with greatness, came despair, and I didn't want to ever come across despair ever again. Even then, being able to be so free was something I hadn't experienced in a long time.

Ever since Edward, Esme, and Carlisle came into my life, I wasn't even human. And as a vampire, as the living dead, that was all I wanted to feel. I got over the fact that mortality wasn't within my reach, and all I wanted was to at least feel human—to be treated as a human. But all they did was walk on eggshells around me, and when I slowly accepted myself, they were still careful, and very afraid. How could I change if they weren't willing to either? Why should I be treated differently?

And with Emmett... he was real. With him, what you saw was what you got. Edward, Esme, and Carlisle were far away from the boundaries that held up my walls, but Emmett didn't care, didn't know, how far gone he was and how far beyond the line he was. How much he didn't care made everything even more appealing.

To him, I was just another vampire, another kind, and it didn't change the way he saw me regardless of who I was as a human. And that was it. It was because he didn't know. I knew that once he did he'd just treat me like them... like the Cullen's. I was still a Hale. I always was and always would be. Giving up being a Hale would be like giving myself up. Giving myself up meant someone else took over me. Never again, not ever.

He was trying, I'd give him that much. I couldn't blame him—not when he knew nothing of Royce in the first place. I had to give people chances, but that would be stepping into new territory and I didn't know if I wanted the power to shift.

I knew there was something between us. It wasn't big, but I could feel it—sparks. It was chilling and unnerving, but at the same time I was curious. I felt something, I just didn't know what and I didn't know if I wanted to find it.

Collecting my thoughts, I turned to Emmett and said, "I'm not jealous, I'm just really, really, on edge right now, okay? So don't assume things, Emmett. And my name is Rosalie."

Apologizing, that was something I never thought I'd do. Even Emmett seemed surprised and I looked away from him and to the right, uncomfortable. I heard him come over and my eyes shifted so fast to him, but he kept coming forward. I didn't back away.

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright? I know I can be forward, but by God, I can't help that you're so—"

"Don't," I said, putting a hand up and signaling for him not to continue. I closed my eyes and breathed out. "I know. And I'm not bragging, I just... I just know, okay?" And I did. I knew I was beautiful, stunning, absolutely eye-catching. I yearned to hear those words, but now that I knew someone who wasn't human was about to say it, I didn't want to hear it anymore. Wondering and knowing were two different things. Emmett telling me I was beautiful would bring so much new things to the table and I didn't know if I was ready for that—or if I'd ever be. Just the fact that he thought of it was enough though. For now. Maybe.

Things were changing.

"Who's Royce?" Emmett said, not skipping a beat. My eyes shot through the air and into his. He caught himself. "Uh, you just... I hear his name thrown around sometimes—"

"Who?" I demanded and he hesitated. "Edward? Of course he—"

"No. You."

"Oh," I said so quietly that I didn't know if he could even hear me. I licked my lips and waited, but I didn't know what I was waiting for. And when I looked at Emmett's eyes I didn't see pity or disgust, I saw truth and understanding.

_Tom and Nate would have loved him. Maybe even father._

_Mother would have hated that he was different._

Grief tore into me and how much Royce was consuming my life—how far gone I was. I was slipping and no one saw, they were all just taking cautious steps around me, and Emmett, he saw something they couldn't see. He wasn't the smartest, but he knew people. I knew he was a people person instead of a people pleaser.

"Are you going to tell me?"

I shouldn't have, but for even reasons I couldn't understand, I did. Things were already changing, even if the ice was still wedged between us and I was furthering the change. I shouldn't hide behind walls like I had been for the past months because hiding showed vulnerability and vulnerability meant being taken advantage of. I was stoic and poised, but I wouldn't back down and say no, I wouldn't show him I was weak. And if I had to knock myself down a few pegs I was willing to do it, just so he couldn't try to get me like he had earlier.

"Boyfriend when I was human," I told him confidently, even though inside my insides were a scattering mess. It was partly true, and I knew if I told him too much he'd be just like them. This was enough.

"And you had to leave him." He said it like it was a fact and that he knew, it wasn't even a question.

"Yeah." And I did, in a way.

The air around us was chilling and there was stretching silence that got Emmett uncomfortable. He shifted his legs back and forth and wrung his hands together. He opened his mouth more than once and I knew he didn't know what to say.

It wasn't until the seventh or eighth or ninth—I didn't know—time that he spoke."It's getting late," Emmett said, staring at the sky, trying to make idle conversation.

I just had to shoot it down; I was speaking without thinking. "Vampires don't sleep."

Emmett turned to me, smiling. "I'd try, just so I could wake up next to you."

I was amazed at how quickly he moved, but not the good kind of amazement. "How many women has that worked on?" I asked, frowning, but he kept smiling. Leave it to Emmett to try and turn his own truth into a joke.

"Well the women I dated weren't vampires." He shrugged, still smiling, and it was contagious. I tried to hold back the bend of my mouth, but I knew a part of me was smiling, even if it wasn't evident on my mouth. I didn't understand how quickly he could change the conversation, how the look on his face went from one extreme to another. He didn't take things to heart and he let things go, and he was everything I wished I was. I was sure this wasn't the first time that thought came across my mind.

I rolled my eyes, trying to show annoyance. "Fine, let's go."

"Sleep?"

"No. Home."


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

It didn't take us long to get back and we found out that Esme, Carlisle, and Edward weren't home. Their presence had been scarce the past few days (or was it weeks?), but I hardly noticed until I really thought about it. It was good that Edward wasn't there either or I would have probably wrung his neck.

I tried to push the conversation and the breaking down and the vulnerability that had occurred with Emmett to the back of my mind. It was nothing but a jumbled mess; I was nothing but a jumbled mess.

But I didn't run away—I had stayed. Despite the anger and the despair I had stayed put, and that was a feat itself. But who was I trying to impress? Maybe the only person I really needed to impress was myself. Lord knows I haven't in a long time.

Then there was the fact that he could get me so riled up and calm me down all at once. He made me jealous; he made me react. I envied human women, but I didn't want to tell him that. And he had talked about them so casually, like he didn't miss them at all—humanity, that was.

And the touching! My God, the way our bodies intertwined and the feeling of his lips against my skin. My hand flew to the side of my neck and dragged down to the collarbone—it was as if my fingers were tracing down the line of fire he managed to inflict. And yet, there was nothing there. It was all in my head, but I felt the spark when my hand came to contact with my neck. Why didn't I mind?

I remembered the feeling of his soft and supple lips. It was so delicate, so smooth, yet burned more than I had ever felt before. More than... more than the actual feeling of fornication previous to when I was human. I had felt nothing then, so why did I feel so much now? The memory was ingrained in my head, but it wasn't a detrimental memory like the experience with Royce.

I stared at the ceiling, my hand still on my neck. I gripped the skin and despite the coldness reverberating through me, his touch had managed to make that one spot burn under my fingertips.

Was that intimacy? Was that what Vera had felt? Although there was Royce, he had never done anything like that before. There would be rough fondling and bruised kisses through drunken eyes and laboured breaths, but never delicate touches and tender kisses through sparkling eyes and calm breaths. That was a first, and I wanted to feel it again. I needed the fire, just once more. Now that I was exposed, I salvaged it. But I would never admit it to him, or to anyone.

What was love?

What was beauty?

I heard Emmett behind me and I forgot that he was not Edward and that he could not read minds through my distressed state. So I bounded straight for the garage, not caring where he was or where he was going. I wasn't avoiding him exactly, I just wanted to be alone. I practically ran through the house and into the garage, flinging myself at my car.

I pushed my deep thoughts away and suddenly missed my car. "Oh, dear Bentley, how I've missed you," I said as if I were a dying man longing for water. I was hugging the corner of it as I sighed and I almost laughed at myself.

"So why does your car get better treatment than I do?" I jumped, startled that I hadn't even heard him come into the room. I whipped around at Emmett as he leaned casually against the door frame. He had followed me and I watched him carefully. He had a smug smile on his face as if he was holding him laughter. What was so funny?

I gazed at him a little bit longer before just giving up, rolling my eyes and turning away from him before mumbling, "Because he knows when to shut up." I made sure he had heard it despite my poor attempt to try and conceal it.

"I for one am offended, Rosalie," he said, feigning hurt. I turned back around to him and gave him a tight smile and a slight tilt of my head. It felt as if everything that had just happened a minute ago was dream—too bad it wasn't. I tried to stop thinking of his kiss whenever I saw him. He looked as if he hadn't touched my neck just outside. He looked like he didn't care.

I pulled away from my car and wanted to do something with it, but there was _nothing_. Everything was fixed and nothing was out of place. I knew if I cleaned it anymore I would puncture a hole through it. Sighing, I combed a hand through my hair, shaking it.

Emmett was still standing at the side and I gave him a sideways glance without turning my head. "What?" I asked, harsher than I intended. Oh well, I couldn't turn back time and reverse it. I tried to push the memory of us outside away as well.

"Are you ever going to drive the thing?" Emmett inquired, mimicking my crossed arms and coming to stand beside me to stare at the red beauty.

"Soon," I answered flatly, turning to him. I gave him a look asking him to leave, but he didn't take the hint and he didn't move.

Truth was, I never really did learn _how _to drive. My father was the only one that could and my mother didn't want me to learn. I hadn't even thought about driving when I was human. My mother said ladies didn't drive and I never questioned it after that. My brother's didn't drive either because they were so young. We had only one car as well, a cheap car and nothing compared to the Buick or Bentley residing in the garage, that we sold when I was sixteen and grasping onto the world because money was starting to get tight.

After that, my father stayed at home as did my mother. We didn't go places and there was never a reason to anyways. Almost everyone in Rochester opted for walking and those who couldn't sell their cars didn't drive them. I hadn't seen Royce with a car either and it was soon like they had never existed in the first place.

"Do you drive?" I asked Emmett.

He nodded, still staring at the car. "Back home we had one car for all seven of us: a Chevrolet. My older brother and I were the only one besides our parents that could drive one."

"You're mother drove?"

His head turned to me in surprise. "Yeah, why wouldn't she?"

"My mother said ladies didn't drive. They got driven around by the men who pursued them. If I wanted to get somewhere I'd have to get a man first."

"How classy," he said quietly, scoffing.

I stared at him. "I hope you're being sarcastic."

"Your own mother wanted you to find men to drive you around. That doesn't sound very high-class to me."

"I'll have you know my family was high-middle high-class!" I nearly yelled at him. He didn't flinch.

I saw the corner of Emmett's mouth come up and his shoulders starting to shake. His eyes were on mine and when I furrowed my brows at him he couldn't hold it in anymore. His mouth came open and laughter erupted from his throat and I tried my best to not smile with him. I was able to resist it and I just glared at him.

"What?" I bellowed, putting my hands on my hips and walking closer to him.

He tried to contain himself and he soon came into a fit of giggles. I sighed and looked away from him.

"Okay, okay! I'm"—he was still laughing—"I'm done!" He was still giggling like a schoolgirl.

And I just stared at him, my face blank. "We had money and nice clothes and a nice house. Obviously, you wouldn't know," I told him, my voice haughty and my lips tight.

"Yeah, okay Rosalie," he said, wiping the nonexistent tears from his eyes.

"I'm serious!"

"And I believe you. It's just... in order to get driven around you needed to find a man? That's... that's... like being a... what's the word?"

My face dropped and I was frowning. "I am not a harlot!"

He brightened up. "Yeah! A harlot!"

I picked up a wrench and threw it at him, hitting his shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?" Emmett cried out.

"Oh suck it up, crybaby. You're a vampire. You survived a bear attack. That's just a wrench."

"It'll be more than _just a wrench_ if I hit you with it Rosalie."

"Really now? Go ahead and try then, Emmett," I challenged, but what he didn't know was that I was just bluffing. My bodyw as rigid as soon as I said the words and my toes curled beneath me. I tried to keep my countenance intact, as well as my passive expression.

Emmett smiled and picked up the wrench, staring at me as I braced myself. But then, unexpectedly, he shook his head and tossed the wrench back into the box perfectly. He didn't seem to catch on. Or he did, and just didn't say anything.

"Something my ma taught me? Never hit a woman. I'd like to say I'm doing her proud right now."

"Anything else your _ma_ taught you?"

"Yep, everything is always my fault, not hers," he said seriously and I was kind of amazed. I cracked a smile at him and laughed, looking away from him.

"You're mother was sure some kind of woman."

"She believe in a lot of things. She wanted my sisters to go to college to, you know."

"Really? If I told my mother she'd ask me if I was possessed by the devil. To her, the husband made the money and the husband was the one that worked. That's how it was at my house and all her friends. I didn't mind though. Work wasn't for me." I shrugged, leaning against the front of the car.

It was silent after that and I wondered if Emmett had left. I had been staring at the wall to the left and turned my head to look at him. The look on Emmett's face was... he looked genuinely surprised. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth hung open before he started to say, "And you believed that?"

"I never thought about it anyways. Besides, I was going to get married before I turned twenty, that was for sure," I replied, staring at him with disdain. I straightened from leaning against the car.

"And after that?"

I shrugged. "Stay at home, probably."

"What about college?"

"Didn't you hear what I had said about my mother?" I asked, getting defensive.

"But what about_ you_?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you want to try engineering, mathematics? Music? You could—"

"No," I replied tersely. I bit the corner of my bottom lip, organizing my thoughts before saying anything. "I just—all I wanted to do was be..." What did I want to be?

"Be what?" he asked, curious.

I kept my eyes rained on him before shrugging languidly. "I don't know. I just wanted to get married, take care of things around the house... just that. That's it really." I should have been excited about it, but I wasn't. The fact that I could never ever have it made it a depressing thought.

"Why?"

"Are you saying I can't be a mother... is that what you're saying?"

"What? No! I mean—I just thought... you know, since you like cars you might like working with them, learning more about them from people who know them inside and out instead of reading manuals. I mean, you're good at that, but learning from experts could save you time."

"I've got all the time in the world, Emmett."

"Just... you could, you know?"

"And how would I do that? Just waltz into a room full of humans and try to fit in? It didn't work back then, I don't think it's going to work now." I was getting unreasonably angry. It was as if he was rubbing the fact that I was immortal in my face.

"You never know until you try." He shrugged.

"What about you? What do you see yourself doing? Working out, playing some football?"

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm an open book, aren't I?" Something quite the opposite of myself. "And you're just full of surprises."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I furrowed my brows at him and his skin was smooth and his dimples were prominent.

"Nothing! You're a little firecracker."

"So now I'm a firecracker, not a Cadillac?" I retorted.

Emmett sighed. "I can't keep arguing with you Rosalie."

"Why not? I'm good at that."

He smiled as he looked at me. "How about debating? How about becoming a lawyer?"

I rolled my eyes at him and went on the other side of my car.

"So is school a yes, or no? I never though I'd say it, but boy, do I miss that place. I had just graduated high school and was taking a break, planning to go to school next year. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life just yet."

I shook my head. "I have a lot of stuff going on, so not now. Not soon, either. All I wanted was to get married, have a kid or two, and I would have been happy. Unlike my parents, I wouldn't cared where they came from or how much money they made. That's all I wanted, I never thought about school, and frankly, I don't have any interest in it. I wasn't made for school—my mother said women should stay home, take care of the family. It was simple."

"Well my ma worked as a part time carpenter. She made tables and chairs for us. She didn't go to school, yes, but she did more than just sit at home."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just that cars are obviously something you're good at and interested in, so I was just suggesting..."

"I'll pass."

"You know there's more to life than just being beautiful."

I stopped breathing. "_Excuse me?_" I said in a deadly tone, sneering at him.

Emmett didn't skip a beat, didn't react at all to the glare on my face. "I know you're beautiful, you know you're beautiful... hell, anyone who's seen your face knows you're beautiful, but I know there's more to you than just that."

Why did he know the right things to say? How could he be so wrong, yet so right at the same time? How was he so rational, yet so... _stupid_? Why did he have no boundaries and didn't care what lines he crossed, but even then he wasn't insulting, he was just so, so honest? Why did he show me things I had never seen before? Why did he open my eyes? Why did I care?

I couldn't take it. I couldn't take how he was, who he was, and what he could do without even realizing it. Not knowing made him even more appealing.

What was I thinking?

"Why are you here?" I asked him, my voice lost and not sounding like my own.

"Because I wanted to see how you and your car were doing..."

My lips twisted into a sneer. "No. Why do I know you? Why did you have to come into my life?"

He saw my glare, but his face didn't falter. He slowly realized the deeper meaning to what I was saying and replied, "I didn't ask for things to be this way."

Instead of retorting, I turned away from him, my eyes resting on the wall before me and the window into the darkening sky. Anger and frustration radiated through me, and the longer the silence stretched, the more suffocating I felt. My eyes were unfocused on everything around me. I could hear him behind me despite not having said anything. The tension was thick in the air and I was barely seeing the beautiful terrain after the rain. The mixture of fresh water and sea salt lingered in the air through the open window.

"You're just like him. You're finding a way to get in and all you're going to do is walk out, bringing me with you so eventually even I lose myself too." I didn't mean to say the words, they just came out. I didn't curse at myself though, I didn't care anymore. I didn't care if he knew or what he would think of me. In the end, it wouldn't matter. He didn't need to know anything about me to try and get into my head. He was already doing it. It was just a game to him, he was just trying to make everything a cruel joke.

So why did I have a hard time convincing myself?

"Who was Royce, exactly? He wasn't just a boyfriend. He couldn't be, not for you to be this way," Emmett mustered the courage to say, something unexpected from him.

I stiffened as soon as I heard his name, and I knew Emmett got his answer. I cursed myself. And instead of saying anything, I turned to him, but not to glare, but to just really look at him. I stopped the urge to turn away or to fidget. And when I saw his eyes, I really saw them. They were gold and focused, such intensity shining through them. I wasn't really looking for anything in his eyes, I was just watching him. I averted my eyes.

"He was no one."

Emmett wrung his hands together, slightly unsure, and asked, "Where are you from? I don't really know anything about you. I'm from Tennessee." I wasn't sure if I was glad or not that he was changing subjects, trying to be inconspicuous about it too.

I went along with it. "I know," I started to murmur, "I'm from New York."

"Do you miss it?"

"No." Truth was, I did. I didn't know why I was lying. I confessed. "I do. I miss..." I racked my brain for anything to say and came out with, "...the cinema." And I really did. I missed the blurring reality and the welcoming fantasies of when everything seemed better and looked alright compared to the decaying city I was a part of.

Emmett immediately lit up, our debacle temporarily forgotten. "I used to go all the time... my brother and I would go every Thursday at five—that was the time we finished work. We also got our pay that day and would give a dime each from our salary to see whatever was playing. Mother always frowned, saying we needed the money for more important things, but I knew she liked the cinema too. Sometimes when we needed to save the money we would sneak in by climbing over the fence." I saw him grin as if he were remembering.

My eyes shot up to his as he said the last part. "My best friend and I did that all the time during the Depression because we could hardly afford it," I said quietly. At first I wasn't sure if he had heard me.

"Oh, so you weren't one of those rich families? I was lucky my brother and I still had a job even then."

I shook my head. "My father worked at a bank. He lost his job, but we still had money. He just didn't want me wasting it. And my mother didn't like the cinema—she said it was a waste of time."

"No it isn't!" he practically screamed, offended.

"That's what I told her. She wouldn't give me the money so I had to sneak in." I smiled at my so called rebellion.

"So I guess the Depression wasn't that bad for you?"

"For the most part. But then we started to run out of money... I don't know, really. It's in the past anyways." I didn't want to introduce him to Royce. There was no need to, no point to. I waved my hand in the air, dismissing it.

"Well I'm from the country—a lot of brothers and sisters. But by God, do I miss the cinema. We should go sometime, go driving in your Bentley. I mean, vampires can see movies, right?"

"Of course." _I mean, vampires could see movies, not that I would go with you, Emmett_. But I didn't tell him that—my mouth had gone dry.

Emmett looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, "So where does Royce fit in all this?"

"What are you talking about?" I replied stiffly. How did he do that? How could he make me angry, then forgetful and blissfully lost, to angry again?

"You've ran from me twice, and this is the longest conversation I have had with you. I thought we were being honest." Emmett looked at me straight in the eyes. "I mean, there must be a reason why you kept running... bad boyfriend in New York? Ratted you out and banned you from the cinema?" he joked. All along he had a backbone and I didn't know how he did it—how he was able to ask for so much, but make it seem as if it were so little at the same time.

I saw red. "Don't pretend you know anything about me you poor country boy," I bit out, hands balling at her sides to keep from losing my temper.

"Even Edward doesn't know a lot about you. Why do you hide so much from people who want to help you, like Esme?" he quickly added. Emmett either couldn't see my anger, or chose not to. I didn't know which one I would have preferred.

"Shut up. You have no right to judge me," I seethed. Yes, he was beyond the boundaries, but now I didn't know if I wanted him to be. And even though he was far away from where the Cullen's stood, I didn't know how to handle it. I wouldn't run away because I wanted someone to say what they meant to me without restriction. I just didn't know how long I could last without retreating.

"Oh, but you have to right to judge me?" Emmett asked, raising his brows. What surprised me was that he showed no signs of anger. It was something I envied, something I had never been able to do.

"I don't judge you!" I said, defensive.

"Then why do run? What did I do?"

I shook my head at him. "Nothing."

"Right. But you think I will before you even got the chance to know me."

And he was right, as much as I didn't want him to be.

"That's different—"

"How?"

Emmett was happy, too happy for anything bad to have ever happened to him. He would never know what it was like. The fact that he was also calm throughout my whole angry spiel made him even more unnerving, made me even more livid. "You will never understand, so don't pretend like you care. Don't pretend to be like the rest of them. You have no idea what it feels like to have people you trusted turn their back to you, causing you to have such a hard time trusting the rest of the world. You have no idea what it's like to have an oblivious father and a social climbing mother, ignoring their only daughter who they're dependent on for the well being of the family. You have no idea what it's like being told the only thing you're good at is being beautiful and wishing you were not," my voice cracked and I looked away so he wouldn't see the anguish in my eyes. "You don't know what it's like to be surrounded by so many people, yet still feel alone at the same time—the most alone you have ever felt in a long time. So don't dare try to say we're the same when we're not."

The silence in the air as the seconds stretched into minutes.

I had said too much, but even then I knew he would keep to himself. I didn't know how I knew... I just did. I had never said that much to anyone before, so why him? Was it because he dared cross the line and took the chance to plunge into my darkness? And did my subconscious let him without even realizing. He was different than them, than the Cullen's, and maybe that was why. Maybe I needed something new, something fresh, something real.

Bitterness radiated deep within me. I had let him in during the heat of the argument. I couldn't believe I told him that much. And for what? The silence was unnerving, the fact that he could be planning my demise in his head. I closed my eyes and wished everything could just disappear. I breathed out and it came out ragged and choked. I felt like I was losing it, as if I were dying. That would be okay.

"You don't know what it's like wake up without a family after you thought for sure you were dead, and you kind of wished you were instead," I whispered to him, my voice breaking.

I ignored it when I heard him come close. I ignored him when he was right in front of me. But my eyes flew open when I felt his arms around me and for the next several seconds I stood still, not moving. I counted in my head for the right moment to break off of his hold, but I didn't. And he didn't let go.

"I do. But don't start to believe what you just told me. It's not true. Carlisle was able to save you for a reason—because you were still alive and not ready to leave the world. You were on the brink of death, just like me, but we didn't fall over because we didn't really want to," he said, a soft edge to his tone. "Life wasn't over for us, and it still isn't. We still have to let go of everything holding us back in order to move forward."

My arms were at my sides as he spoke, my head barely touching his chest. Eventually some of the tension melted and while I never relaxed completely, I didn't break from his hold either.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

"So... are you ever going to drive the thing?" Emmett asked me as he played with a strand on his shirt. I was busy polishing the side of the car Emmett had gotten dirty by bringing in mud after another rainstorm, thinking it'd be funny. He had been the only one laughing, but as he continued, I found it harder and harder to keep my frown intact. He didn't need to be Edward to know what I was thinking because he knew I wanted to laugh.

When I had cracked a smile he practically yelled in glee, as if trying to inform the entire state of Virginia.

"You're more beautiful when you smile," he had said and I had ignored him. "Really, you are." My back had still been to him, but when I turned around he was off doing somewhere else and talking about something else.

I tried to push the thought away, but it still lingered, and I knew it was mostly because I wanted it to.

"Why are you so adamant about driving it?" I asked him, wiping my hands and standing, finally finished.

He looked up from the floor, a hole now on his shirt from where he had been picking it. "Uh, because cars are made for driving?" Emmett said sarcastically, giving me a look. I almost laughed at his attitude, his humour far from dry. "Seriously, it's a nice car and you spend hours taking care of it. You might as well show everyone it! And if you're driving it..." he trailed off, whistling.

"You're disgusting," I remarked, throwing the towel at his face. He was caught my surprise at my fast throw and leaped off the floor.

"Hey, I'm just saying. And it's not even a bad thing. Don't girls like being called beautiful?"

_No. _"Then men would just take advantage of it," I said bitterly, picking the towel from his hands and flinging it onto the roof of Edward's car.

The silence was loud as we stood in the garage and I heard Emmett shuffle his feet. I had just ended the conversation, but Emmett didn't want it to be ended. He waited, but when he knew I wouldn't say anything, he said, "I'll drive it if you don't want to, I guess. I haven't driven a car in such a long time, just this once Rosalie!"

"Nope," I said tersely, ending the conversation. Too bad he didn't pick up on it.

"Okay, then you drive it and I'll be at the passenger seat. We'll just stay out of crowds so we don't tarnish my rep."

"Your rep?" I asked flatly, raising my brows at him. I almost laughed when I realized he was being serious. "Besides, I'm not driving it."

Emmett looked as if he were about to whine, but stopped himself, though he still persisted."Why? You do know how to drive a car, right Rosalie?"

"Of course, what do I look like to you?" I lied, but he just stared, catching on to my bluff. I sighed. "Okay, no. My parents never let me."

"Then why do you own a car?"

"Edward collects them, I like fixing them. I never needed to drive them for that."

"But what about showing them off?" I didn't answer. "I'll teach you."

"_You'll_ teach me?"

"Yeah, it can't be that hard. I mean, I can drive."

He looked so eager, so ready, and so determined. I sighed, knowing if he wanted something, he would try and get it. He didn't wait and he didn't sit down and wait for things to come to him. If he wanted it, he'd go after it.

I watched him, waiting for him to back down, but he just stood his ground and kept his lips pressed, awaiting my answer. "What if I say no?"

He chuckled. "I won't let you."

"No."

"Rosalie..."

"No. No, no, no," I said smugly, crossing my arms.

Emmett sighed, laughing under his breath as one hand came to his forehead. "Really, Rosalie. Really?" he addressed.

"No, no, no, no—hey!" I exclaimed in surprised as I was hoisted into the air and onto Emmett's wide shoulder, my blond hair flying. His arm was around my waist as he walked and my fists pounded onto his back, but he didn't flinch, as if he couldn't feel a thing. Well, that made sense. He was _huge_.

Despite my best efforts I wasn't released and I heard the car door opening. And I knew that if I had uttered the words, I knew if I had even whispered for him to let me go—I knew he would. But not once did I say the words, and not once did it come across my mind to say it. I didn't know why, and I really didn't want to know.

I was put into the passenger seat of my Buick, almost hitting the roof. Emmett shut the door and raced to the driver's seat, as if I were going to escape. I didn't know if he knew I could just easily leave because I was just as fast, but he didn't say anything and neither did I. Instead, I stayed in the seat and didn't move, confused at my silent compliance.

The key was on the dashboard and he started the engine before realizing he hadn't opened the garage. He grabbed the handle, but looked back at me, who sat there arms crossed and brows raised.

"Don't move," he said and quickly opened the garage door before racing back in. He put the key into the ignition and started the car, driving outside before running back out and closing the garage door. He was in such a rush that he banged the top of his head on the car as he climbed in, his huge frame awkward in the slightly cramped space.

"I'm surprised you knew where to put the key, honestly," I declared sarcastically, but with not as much tinge as he could muster. Emmett turned to me, appalled, and I smirked at him, but as I stared that smirk soon turned into a smile.

Emmett then silently got out of the car and opened my door, pushing me onto the driver's side. Resistance was impossible, for his strength was far greater than mine. And once again, I didn't try and evade his touch. Something about it was just so comforting.

We sat there in silence as the car whirred and I looked down, staring at him under long lashes. He sighed. He did a lot of sighing. "Drive, Rosalie."

It took much pushing from Emmett to get me to actually move the car, but I did. His instructions were simple and I found myself driving on the road, alone. Emmett also took the time to entertain me with stories of when he drove and exclaimed that front-wheel drive had improved more than with his old Chevrolet. I remembered briefly reading something about that, but other than that I really didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

When we got to the road it wasn't that hard because there were barely any cars on the road. My fingers were wrapped tightly around the wheel and I heard Emmett laugh. My back was ramrod straight as I stared straight ahead of me, a mess on the inside. I couldn't even glare at Emmett in fear of my safety. Then I felt a hand on my fingers and I stole a glance down before shooting my head back on the deserted road.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a state of shock, but his hand stayed in place.

"Just relax," he said so soothingly that I knew he could put me to sleep if he talked that way to me at night. But vampire's couldn't sleep, though I think with him, it would be possible.

I didn't relax, so repeated himself and I tried to ease my grip. Then, his fingers tried to pry my tips from the tight hold I had. I breathed out and slowly eased my fingers until I was only gripping the steering wheel lightly.

I continued to drive after that, surprised when I realized we were in West Virginia. We had drove for a long time, the sun setting. Emmett was still awake, leaning back as I drove. We passed by a service station and Emmett bolted out of his seat, telling me to turn to it. I was slow when it came to turns, and took my time as I headed into the Shell station. I almost hit the attendant, mistaking the brake for the gas, causing Emmett to chortle in laughter. I parked as quickly as possible after that and the car ended up crooked, before hitting Emmett on the shoulder.

"Why are we here?" I asked Emmett.

"We're almost outta gas, Rosalie. Got to operate the car somehow."

"I knew that," I muttered and Emmett ruffled my hair.

I watched as the gas jockey operated the pump, taking no time at all. When I thought he was done, he began to wipe the windshield, catching a sight of both Emmett and I in the car as he did so. He paused, the water running down the front of the car and I stared at him before shifting my eyes to Emmett. Emmett then made a motion with his hands to alert the attendant's attention. The attendant snapped out of his reverie and continued, blushing along the way.

"Can't have anyone stealing you away from me Rosalie."

"You think I was going to run away with him?" I asked, pointing at the attendant as he washed the back of the car.

Emmett shrugged his shoulders and I laughed. I actually laughed. Emmett seemed just as surprised as I was, but I didn't try to stop laughing—not that time.

He was about to respond but noticed the attendant was waiting beside my door so I opened it, wondering what he wanted. "What?" I said harsher than I meant to and he actually flinched. Emmett was laughing behind me. When I turned to him Emmett was leaning forward, his hand coming out of the car. He held something in his hand and I saw the attendant retrieve it and put it in his pocket, muttering shyly, "Thank you Sir, Ma'am." Before I could ask what Emmett had given him, Emmett reached for the door and shut it close. I felt half of his body pressed onto my lap, his shoulder grazing my breasts as he pulled back. I gave him a pointed stare but he seemed bewildered, unaware of what he had done—what he could do to me.

"What was that?"

"You really don't understand cars that much, do you, Rosalie?"

"Of course I do!"

"So what did I give him?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you!"

Emmett snickered. "I gave him twenty cents. For gas. Gas isn't free, Rosalie."

"Twenty cents?" I asked, confounded.

"Well, it was only seventeen, but I gave him a three cent tip."

"No, I mean, where'd you get twenty cents? Where'd you even get money?"

"I have money. I did work when I was human and made forty cents an hour"—he grinned, as if he were proud—"I went home with Edward once to get my stash when everyone was asleep." He pulled out a bag from his pocket with what I assumed was filled with coins. "I was well prepared for this trip."

"What trip? We're just taking a drive."

"I consider it a trip once we cross the border. We _are_ in a different state."

I had almost forgotten about that and it was then that I started to panic. He noticed.

"We've been driving for nearly three hours! We're actually almost at the border to Pennsylvania. I'll tell you directions once we get there though. I want to take you somewhere."

Time just went by so fast when you were used to it standing still.

"Where?" I asked curiously.

"I said I'll tell you when we get there, Rosalie," he nearly laughed off.

Knowing how far away we were from Virginia made me tense up, made me grip the steering wheel so tightly like when I first pulled away from the house. I gnawed on my bottom lip and looked over at Emmett, who was staring at me curiously. Without a word he put his hand over mine again, except I didn't calm down that time.

His rough fingers felt soft against my skin as he rapped his fingertips against my knuckles, attempting to soothe me. I couldn't concentrate and couldn't tell if I was feeling any better.

"Let's go back, Emmett," I said in a voice I couldn't recognize as my own. His hands against mine didn't stop.

He shook his head. "We're almost there, and once we're there you'll love it. You'll be glad you didn't go back to Virginia."

"Promise?" I whispered to him, the dusk soon starting to take its toll.

Emmett smiled. "I promise."

I just hoped he kept his promises.

I closed my eyes before slowly reopening them, starting the car again. I didn't know why I was suddenly so nervous. Emmett's hand pulled away from mine once I started the car and I didn't know what to make of that. I felt so bare without his skin on mine. I tried to ignore it but the thought stayed looming above my head. We drove into the evening and though I didn't need the dim light to see it would have been comforting.

I wasn't really seeing ahead of me so when the car drove into a pothole I jumped in surprise along with the car, giving a short yell as I went. My hands went even tighter around the wheel and if I could, I knew I would have paled more than how pale I was at the moment. Emmett made a noise that wasn't as surprising as mine, but it still made me nervous. I immediately hit the brakes and turned to Emmett.

"It was just a pothole. No big deal. Keep driving."

I stared at him for a long moment. "The road is uneven, Emmett. What if I destroy the car?" I was horrified at the thought, all the days wasted away for some lousy pothole...

"I'd fix it up."

"You don't know cars." I almost laughed. Not quite.

He shrugged. "I'd learn. It can't be that hard." He paused for a second before continuing, "Now quit stalling and let's get a move on." The smile resurfaced on his face and though I didn't return it I felt something stir deep within me. I sighed, and started the car again, driving along the road, heading to the destination Emmett wanted me to go to.

I continued to drive and Emmett made time by quicker, never giving his mouth a rest. We made several pit stops along the way, and every time we came at a fueling station Emmett would be the one to pay and give a little tip even though I saw no reason to. All they did was fill the car with gas and clean the already clean glass. Anyone could have done that, really, but Emmett didn't care and didn't relent when I told him to save the money instead of giving it away.

The good thing about being a vampire, I guess, was never getting tired. When the darkness started to seep through the sky I barely noticed because the light I saw barely changed. As we passed by a sigh along the road I kept both hands on the wheel and looked confused before turning to Emmett and asking, "What are we doing in Orefield?"

He smiled, unable to hide it. "You'll see."

I knew if I asked questions he wouldn't answer them because he was just so good at keeping things to himself. I gave up a long time ago and just continued to drive where he took me.

It wasn't until I saw the bright lights and heard the loud sounds of voices and engines and laughter and raucous. My mouth parted open and my eyes widened when the sign, barely legible, came to view. I leaned forward against my seat, pressing my chest tot he steering wheel, as I anticipated where we were headed. Words formed in my head but couldn't escape the confines of my lips.

"Dear Lord is this..."

Emmett was laughing now, but I couldn't tear my eyes to glare at him or close my mouth to say something malicious.

"I've only sneaked into the one New Jersey when my father would go on a business trip. Vera would come along with her husband sometimes, back when they thought of moving to Camden," I said mostly to myself, still in complete awe as to where we were.

"Watch where you're going Rosalie..." Emmett told me, his laughter dying down.

I hardly paid attention to him as I read the sign: "Shankweiler's Auto Park". Looking around I realized how winter was already over the first time as I never really saw the world when I was stuck inside. In fact, this was the first time in a long time that I was out of the house using my own free will, and this was the longest I'd been away too.

"Rosalie... the road..."

My eyes were fixated ahead of me, though I was hardly seeing what was splayed before me. I was lost, delirious. "Wow..."

"Rosalie..."

"Is this why you brought your money? Are you paying?"

"Rosalie, maybe you should look ahead of you..."

"What movie are we see—what the hell?" I exclaimed as I fell backwards and onto the seat, my hair flying in front of my face.

"I told you!" Emmett also exclaimed, earning him a hard stare from me. At the sight of my frazzled state mixed with my wild and angry eyes, Emmett tried to contain his laughter with a snigger before sputtering a full-blown chortle that he could not contain. His eyes were closed and if he could cry I knew he would.

But unlike his current euphoric state I looked in shock at what was in front of me and that I had smashed right into the back of someone else's car that was lined up for the cinema. And the car wasn't a run of the mill Chevrolet or even a Buick, but a _Cadillac_—a red shiny Cadillac that I knew if it had been mine I would have been off in a tyrant.

I saw the door of the car open and immediately shrunk in my seat.

"I'll handle it, Rosalie," Emmett offered.

I turned to him. "That's what I'm afraid of," I mumbled angrily.

The man reminded me of Royce, which made me cower away even more. Emmett, seeing my distress, grabbed onto my hips and before I could even resist he had me up in the air and moved me to the other side as he slid across the seats and into the drivers. And even in his rushed state he gently placed me where he had been sitting and before I could see his face or he could decipher my reaction, he opened the door to the Bentley and I saw from his profile the smile on his face as the man came up to him.

"You the one driving?" the man asked, his voice hard.

"Yes sir," Emmett said lightly.

I watched the man's face and I didn't know why I was so worried—I _was _inhuman. I could crush him if I wanted to, and even Emmett. I tensed up as I awaited what the man would say.

"You taking your girlie to the drive-in?" he asked, staring at me. My hands curled and I pressed back against the side of the car, regarding him carefully. His stare penetrated through me and I had to look away and found comfort in Emmett's eyes as he watched me. His hand reached over and took a hold of mine and I welcomed it.

"Yes sir," Emmett repeated, as calm as stilled water. "Sorry about your car, I was kind of distracted..."

"Boy, do you know the car you crashed into?" he asked and Emmett was hesitant. He knew nothing of cars so he clearly wouldn't know.

"It's a Cadillac," I blurted out, catching the attention of both men. My eyes looked around, trying to not stare at anything for too long. "I mean, um, yeah. I kind.... distracted him, you know." I heaved a sigh and put on a smile, my eyes wary and reluctant.

The man stared for a while at me before turning back to Emmett. "You're girlfriend knows more about cars then you? And quite the looker." The man sighed, turning back to his car. "It's not so bad, the damage. In fact, I don't really like Cadillacs and have been looking for an excuse to import a Mercedes or Hispano-Suiza, but my wife insisted on a Cadillac."

"Rosalie here loves Cadillacs," Emmett chirped in and the man smiled politely.

"Well, I think I got my reason to get a new one. Just be careful next time because you might get a grumpy fellow. By the way, my name is Kenneth. Haven't seen you two before."

"Emmett. That's Rosalie, my girl. We drove in from New Jersey. We only come once in a while."

"Kenneth! People are waiting," a woman who was in the Cadillac shouted.

Kenneth turned his head before turning back to us. He tipped his fedora before standing tall and fixing his zoot suit. "Coming, Viola," Kenneth shouted and turned, dashing for the car. There was no more line in front of us so they drove on, paying their fare, before Emmett paid for ours. I watched him fish change from his pocket and didn't even bother to ask that time.

He found an open spot a few rows down from the front and parked the car before turning to me. I was silent.

"What?" he asked.

"It's just.... strange, that's all. The humans, the talking, the conversing. I don't know, it's like you've done it forever."

"I have done it forever."

"You know what I mean," I said, turning away and looking at the blank screen. Expensive lowriders were parked in front of us, making it easy to see ahead. For these people, the Depression was nothing and their routine of drive-ins and probably cocktail parties did not stop.

Emmett watched me for a moment before realization hit him. "Rosalie," he started. He waited until I turned to him and I did, albeit hesitantly. "Rosalie, listen. Not everyone's a monster. Not everyone's out to get you. That man was so darn surprised that you knew of cars, that you knew it was a Cadillac more than I did. I bet if we weren't in a line and he wasn't in a rush he'd start to talk to you about Cadillacs and Buicks and all the other cars you knows about. You're smart and a very likable person, you just got to give the people a chance to see it."

I watched him silently. "How do you know?"

He smiled. "Because I can see it. And I'd still like to get to know you."

"Me too," I admitted, smiling tightly at him. He gave me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder and turned to the screen. I did as well, waiting for it to start.

And as we sat in silence I looked around me at the expensive cars and the expensive people, so suave and confident. I watched their equally exquisite wives or girlfriends and I didn't miss the money. I'd give every luxury in the world just to be like them—so in love, that was.

I was lost in my own state of mine that I hadn't paid Emmett much attention until I started to hear him hum. I wouldn't have cared—I didn't, at first—until I recognized the melody.

"Where'd you learn that song?" I asked him as I turned my head to him, almost dumbfounded.

Emmett stopped and turned to me as well. "Um, you've played that on the piano before—a lot, actually. Also, my sister made me take her to the drive-in once to see Monte Carlo. She wouldn't stop humming that tune for weeks. I hated it, but it's nice now, when you played it."

"What are you talking about? It was horrible."

He shrugged.

"What do you mean"—I copied him, shrugging as well, except I was exaggerating what he had done.

"I don't know anything about pianos and you can play it so that's better than what I could ever do."

"You're just a basket full compliments, aren't you?" I said sarcastically.

He grinned. "I try. Now where was I?" he thought for a moment before starting again and I laughed at him and he laughed at himself. When we calmed down—well, mostly him—he started the song again, but that time from the beginning.

Slowly, I rested my head on his shoulder and he swiftly wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. I moved my head along his shoulder until I found a comfortable position as we waited for the movie to start. Cars were still driving in and voices were heard, but as time went on the voices faded. My eyelids felt heavy and I his chest move as he breathed and the rumble from the humming coming from his diaphragm.

I closed my eyes as he hummed the song and I think for a moment—for a split second—that I was able to fall into a lull and had ventured into a dreamlike state, entrapped by darkness I welcomed freely. I felt as if I disappeared from the world and into my own whimsical fantasy brought along by the sound of his voice. I felt as if I escaped reality and went somewhere that Carlisle told me was impossible for vampires to go: to sleep.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

The warm early May air felt soft against my skin as the doors were open, letting it drift across our skin. The movie was starting and the voices dimmed, the engines cut off.

Emmett had told me he wanted to see the movie after he heard of it on the radio Carlisle had in the corner of the living room, beside the piano. He was an avid fan of horror movies, he said, having sneaked into movies such as Frankenstein, Dracula, and Murders in the Rue Morgue years before. He said while becoming a vampire was a scary feat, he wanted to be scared out of his mind. He also told me no movie had ever scared him and that he would be there if I needed to turn away. I rolled my eyes. Yeah right.

Emmett made several off-handed comments as the movie went on, frequently scoffing that "That wasn't scary!" and "That is so fake!". I agreed about what he was saying, but wasn't as vocal about it. I turned and saw through several car windows that Kenneth and Viola were a couple of cars down, Viola clutching her husband's shirt and barely peeking out from his jacket. I turned to Emmett and saw that we weren't even touching. He had not moved.

I was staring at the space between us and I felt his eyes on me. I looked up and he said, "Do you want to hide in my shirt? Close your eyes?"

I furrowed my brows at him and he held up his hands defensively. I smiled and shook my head, subtly trying to scoot closer to him. When I did he put an arm around me and I didn't resist, didn't try to resist.

"Hey, you wanna go on the hood of the car?" he asked, looking eager.

"Why?"

"Better picture!" And without waiting for my answer he opened his car door and held onto my hand, bringing me with him. He climbed up and lifted me close, even though I probably didn't need the help. The hood wasn't that wide as it was long so I was pressed against his leg, his arm around me keeping me from falling. I looked around and noticed a lot of other couples either on the hood or roof of their cars, enamoured by the movie. I turned back to the film, not really there.

As the movie went on and the background music accompanying the film never stopped, I felt Emmett's fingers press against my skin, holding me even closer. I saw that his eyes were wide and his mouth parted and I knew if I called his name that he wouldn't hear me. I watched him for a moment, as the only light coming from the screen lit up his face and the night around us, brightening his features. Even with his mouth hanging open his dimples were prominent alongside his defined cheekbones. It was such an odd combination—both hard and soft intermingled into one. It was endearing.

I must have stared longer than I thought because then he turned to me and a smile replaced his face. "If you're scared my shirt is still available for hiding in," he whispered so suavely, so confidently. I knew underneath his voice was fear.

I ignored him and grabbed his head, turning him back to the screen. I watched along with him, my head resting at his shoulder at one point. I didn't mind the movie much, but I loved the moment. It brought back memories I actually welcomed. I missed the drive-in, I missed going with my father to business trips and sneaking into the drive-in when he thought I was sleeping. Emmett helped me relive my memory, whether he knew it or not. This place, the setting, the entire atmosphere, was still with me. They were brought from my human live into my inhuman life and I knew it was something that would never change, ever.

I smiled at the thought and looked at Emmett from under my lashes. I didn't look too long that time and focused back on the movie.

I watched with interest as one scene started to play and could feel the gruesome part of it. I watched as Lugosi overpowered Karloff with a scalpel in hand and heard him utter the words "There's more than one way to skin a cat". It was slow then, and I felt Emmett pull me closer, his face on my hair, his nose on my temple and his mouth on my cheek. I watched as Lugosi skinned Karloff alive, even though all I saw was a silhouette of the man accompanied by screams.

Soon I heard a scream off the screen, high pitched and saw many of the women were screaming. But there was another high pitched voice too close to me that wasn't my own. I looked up at Emmett and saw him as he screamed before he pulled me up and had me cover the screen, my entire body illuminated by the bright lights, hiding Emmett in the shadow.

"No horror movie I ever saw has showed anything like... like... like _that_!" Emmett wailed. I felt his hands shake and I continued to watch the movie with interest, my eyes focused, my mouth in a hard line as I tried to understand what was happening.

When the scene was over I felt Emmett's eyes look over my shoulder. I turned to him, my blond hair curtaining his face before he moved it out of the way. When he saw it was safe to look he lowered me to the hood of the car, his arm still around me.

"Are you alright?" I asked, looking down at him.

"Yeah," he said, but sounded anything but convincing.

"None of that's real, you know," I said softly, mostly talking to myself. I looked away from him, but chose not to look at the screen. Instead, I stared at my feet.

"I know."

My eyes came back to his. "Then why are you scared?"

"I'm not... I don't know, it's just that not a single movie I've seen has ever done anything like _that_!" I raised my brows at him, a smile coming to my lips. "What, Rosalie? And why aren't you scared? Have you ever seen anything like that, have you ever seen blood and heard screaming and being like... like _that_ in a movie before?"

I shook my head. "I can't say I have, Emmett."

He gaped at me. "They why aren't you scared? You have a tough armour, I'll say."

I laughed lightly at how serious he was making the situation.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asked, and I tried to stop by closing my mouth, but my teeth were flashing at him. I could hardly contain myself. "Oh, don't tell me you've seen worse than that." I didn't answer, but my laughter died down. I bit my bottom lip and stared at my hands, lithe and cold against the warm night air. "What movie did you see that was more scary than this? Tell me, because I've seen like every scary movie out there and this is the first time I saw that," he said, trying to persuade me to answer him. Emmett's hand was on my arm and despite the cold skin it still managed to feel warm against me.

I paused for a moment and contemplated whether or not I should say anything. I had no reason not to say anything, honestly. He already knew so much that I had unconsciously unveiled to him, yet I was still hesitant. And at the same time, I was eager to say something, _anything_ to him, of all people.

Sighing, I looked down at my lap and kept my eyes trained on my legs. "It wasn't a movie," I told him, looking up and staring right at him with my lips sealed tight, my eyes half open, half there. "I think I've experienced worse than Karloff." I shrugged my shoulders and his stare was too intense that I had to look away. I shouldn't have told him. I should've screamed and hid in his shirt like the rest of the women here. I shouldn't have been so interested and he shouldn't have asked. He was judging me now. He was probably thinking what a mess I was.

I waited for him to get up and leave, get me in the car and drive back to Virginia. I waited for him to say something, say something hurtful and to walk away.

He did none.

Instead, I felt his hand around my arm pull me close to him and I felt his nose on the top of my head and his lips on the side of my face. I heard him breathe and I smelled his sweet scent. I saw him wrap both arms around me and I didn't feel trap. He didn't say anything at all and that was enough. It was enough and I wanted to stay like that. He didn't have to say anything. And as he held me all the background noise disappeared and all the screaming was forgotten and it had never felt so right. Silence had never been that comforting before.

"I can't find the right words to say, but then again, I was never good this words," he murmured and I felt his lips against the coldness of my skin.

His honesty hurt me. His care destroyed me. I felt completely vulnerable in his arms but I didn't care and it didn't matter. Why did I feel that way about him?

We stayed like that even as the movie ended. We stayed like that even as the cars left the drive-in and were one of the last to leave. We stayed like that, and I didn't mine. When everyone was gone he pulled away and I offered to let Emmett drive, but he just grinned at me and practically shot to the passenger seat. I sighed tiredly—even though I was anything but—and rolled my eyes as I got in, slamming the driver's seat harder than I intended.

I stayed sitting for a second before starting the Buick. "Where to now?" I asked him.

Emmett thought for a moment. "We should go back—I bet they're worried about us," he said slyly, grinning at me. He knew something I didn't and when it dawned on me I stared at him disgustingly.

"Lord, Emmett put your mind somewhere else," I said, driving the car and keeping my eyes in front of me, even though I could see him clearly at the same time.

"Hey, I'm a man, I can't help what runs in this brain of mine."

"Geez," I joked, scoffing, "my bad." I smiled and continued to drive, getting the hang of it easily.

The banter continued even as we stopped at a fueling station. When we pulled out it Emmett's chatter was still endless. My replies were scarce after that though, suddenly tired. I never once did feel sleepy, though. That was an advantage of being a vampire, I guess.

The hours passed idly and I didn't really pay attention to anything he was saying, but that sound of his voice was comforting itself. When I did pay attention to him he was talking about something him and Edward was going to do in town and about school. He remarked that he still didn't know whether or not he wanted to go to university or what he wanted to do with his life.

_Live as the dead_, I thought to myself. He couldn't have a job in a society of humans, but then again, that's what Carlisle was doing. I stole a quick glance at Emmett and tried to figure out what he was good at. Of everything, he held a lot of street smarts, rather than relying on books. And it wasn't a bad thing. I think it held more usefulness than going by the book.

He tried to get me to talk, but I used the excuse of focusing to not. I knew he didn't believe me, but he didn't push for an answer.

It was hours later when we entered West Virginia in the peak hours of morning when Emmett going restless. He turned to me and asked, "What did you want to do with your life?"

I was confused and thought about it, but still couldn't come up with a solid answer. Instead, I replied with, "What?" My eyes were still on the empty road and we had stopped by another fueling station earlier with Emmett paying, again. How much did he even have?

"When you were human, I mean. What did you want to do?"

Why was he suddenly curious?

I glanced at him quickly. "Oh. I don't know. Well, I do. My mother said I was going to marry someone and become a wife, and that's all I was intended to do with my life, Emmett. What did you want to do?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

I furrowed my brows and looked at him again. "You didn't know? How did you not know?" My fingers clenched the wheel tightly, suddenly angry for some reason.

Emmett shook his head, staring out the window, his legs propped in front of him. I never told him to take them down. It could be cleaned later. "See, that's your problem. You have everything planned. I didn't ask for what your mother wanted you to do, I asked what _you_ wanted to do. You don't do what you want," he accused me.

"Yes I do!" I yelled at him defensively and I involuntarily slammed the brakes, flying forward and hitting my hands on the windshield to try and prevent myself from crashing my body into it. Emmett lurched forward as well and his head turned, colliding with the glass. He didn't break it, fortunately, and stared a little bit longer off into the distance, attention from me gone.

Emmett opened the door and pointed. "See that hill? You would never go up there because you're scared."

"What do you want me to do, roll down it?" I asked him in disbelief.

"No, but that's not a bad idea." He turned to me, smiled, and grabbed my hand. He opened the door and practically carried me to what he was staring at—the top of a hill.

When he placed me down we were right at the top and I could see the car in the distance. I turned to him and he had his arms crossed, waiting.

"I'm not rolling down that," I said a matter of factually.

"You're scared." Emmett was smiling.

"Am not."

"Really?" Emmett was smiling even more.

I resisted the urge to throttle him. "If I do it, will you shut up about it?"

"This isn't about me. This is about you. Can you let go? Forget about your mother and your father and all their rules and do what you want. And I know you want to roll down this hill. You've never done it before, have you? New York doesn't have any hills—it's all city, isn't it? You want to know what it's like, but you're scared. You won't know until you try, so try it."

"But—"

"No buts. Live a little. Have some fun. The drive-in was fun, wasn't it? Well, Rosalie, this is only the beginning." He sounded so sure of himself and so excited at the same time, and I didn't know why.

I watched him carefully and not once did his smile falter. "How many women have you said that to?"

He shrugged. "About five."

"And how many have you meant it to?"

"Just one." He was staring right at me as he said it and I felt something stir deep inside of me. Why did he know the right things to say—that insufferable, idiotic fool?

Emmett stared at me for a long time and I groaned out loud I pushed at him with my hands but he didn't budge. I looked down at the bottom of the hill. It was steep.

He was staring at me with raised brows and I looked at the dusty sky and the rising sun. I walked in a circle before I gave him a look. He waited.

I bit my bottom lip and I knew he was right. So why was I holding back? I wasn't scared. I pursed my lips and my tongue stuck out of the corner of my mouth, curling as I concentrated. Emmett was still.

Then, with one last long fleeting look, I practically threw myself off the hill and rolled down, screaming.

I tumbled down anything but gracefully, hitting my head on the grass too many times to count and screaming at the top of my lungs. My hair whirled around as I went, flying in every direction. Even if I tried to stop myself from rolling, I knew I couldn't—gravity was pulling me down. So with every scream I stumbled, hitting my hips, shoulders, and knees as I went.

When I finally hit the bottom—which took much, much longer than I thought—I was still screaming and only stopped when I needed to breathe. My ear was pressed against the ground and my body was contorted so that my hips were in the air, one of my knees were pressed against the dirt, and the foot of my other leg was solidly rooted against the grass.

I shut my eyes and groaned, feeling the wet dirt seeping alongside my hair and touching my scalp. Gasping, I sat on my knees and felt the top of my head, pulling chunks out as I treaded my fingers through my hair. I looked at it in horror, flicking the dirt away and trying to find where to wip my hands, unsuccessful. Then I realized my knees were getting dirty and I stood, the front bottom half of my legs encased in mud.

My hair was tousled and turned and a tangled mess. I heard laughter and saw Emmett still perched at the top of the hill. I glared at him and he must have saw because his laughter stopped immediately. Then, without warning, he threw himself off the hill too, rolling in a way that looked painful and I wondered if that was how I rolled.

Emmett didn't scream at all, but instead hollered in excitement, exaggerating the fun the hill could provide. He rolled near my feet on his back and looked at me.

"Wasn't that fun?" he asked brightly.

"Uh, no," I replied, annoyed. I almost smiled at the dirt on his cheek and forehead.

He noticed. "Laugh, Rosalie. I know you want to."

"No I don't."

"Are we seriously fighting about this again? Let go, Rosalie. Laugh, no one here is going to stop you."

I smiled and bit my bottom lip to try and stop it, but it still came. Emmett saw and started to laugh and then I did something I really had no experience ever doing: I let go. I laughed out loud. I laughed at the dirt on his face, in his fair, and on the corner of his mouth. I laughed at his stupidity and the situation we were both in.

"Was that so hard?" he asked after the laughter started to die down.

"Maybe not for you, but for me, yes."

"But you did it."

"And my hair's a mess!" I walked over him so I was blocking the sun from hitting his face, holding up a chunk of my hair covered in dirt. Then I pointed to my knees and I knew I shouldn't have done that. His eyes went from my hair and trailed to my shoes, raking in my body in its entirety. His eyes went slow and I wanted to kick him. He seemed to sense that because right when I reeled my left foot back he grabbed my ankle and brought me forward. I yelped as I fell onto him, one leg across him and the other on the other side, making me straddle him. He let go of my ankle, but put his hands on my hips, stopping me from getting up.

"What the hell was that for?" But I didn't even give him a chance to answer because I quickly asked, "And look what you made me do, my hair is all dirty and my clothes... Esme's going to think we went through a hurricane."

"Aw, it's alright," he cooed, mocking me.

I pushed him on his chest, but I knew he couldn't feel it. Not when he was of that stature. Still, I tried. I crossed my arms in front of me and said, "No, it's not alright! Look at me, I look like a mess and hardly fit to go outside, but _here_ I am!" I was frazzled at the very words and living through it only had me only more agitated. "I hope you're proud," I continued, mumbling, "I have to get inside." I looked to the car and tried to stand, but Emmett held me down.

I looked down at him and one of his hands released itself from my hip, lingering on my thigh. Then, he said with deliberate slowness, "You could have mud on your hair, rain on your face, dirt on your hands, scrapes on your knees... and you'd still be the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

I watched him, too stunned to move, with my mouth partly opening, but no words slipping out. We were still and I just watched him, wanting to believe him—my God, you didn't know how much I wanted to believe him—and murmured, "You liar." It was one thing to tell me I was beautiful when I was, and it was another to lie to take advantage of me.

So why was the idea of truths and lies blurring?

"No." He shook his head, his fingers dancing across my wrists, his eyes still on mine. He wasn't hungry. I was surprised he lasted at the drive-in.

I shook my head back at him, my voice nothing more than a whisper against the onslaught of light."Then why do you think I'm beautiful?" I didn't pull away from the feel of his fingertips on his wrists, or even when his hands started to trail up and down my arms, his fingers soft against my cool skin.

His voice was deep and sounded rough as it came out, as if he was nervous. "Because you're smart with music and cars. Because you're confident since you always say what you want. Because you're funny—and you don't even know it sometimes." He smiled at the last part and I brought my hands up, bringing his hands clutching onto mine with me. I delicately removed his hands from mine, suddenly missing the touch. But then I ran a hand through his dark curly hair, playing with it. His eyes glanced up and I kept my stare on his hair, not wanting to face his face.

As I curled a strand around my finger I said, "You have nice hair. And cute dimples.

"That's it?"

No. It wasn't it, it couldn't be it. There was more and I was done lying with myself.

"Let me finish. You're smart with anything to do with life. You're confident since you always say what you want. You're funny—and you even know it sometimes." I looked down at him as I said the last part and he was smiling at me. My fingers were now trailing against the side of his face before stumbling down his neck and resting back at my thigh.

We didn't say anything for a moment before Emmett started to chuckle. He looked at me with bright eyes and said confidently, "And you're stubborn"—my arm instinctively came up and my brows furrowed, but he caught both my wrists and held me there, albeit gently—"but somehow, I always come back to you." He brought my wrists to his mouth and kissed them. I felt his lips place themselves on the bone covered by skin, lingering.

I curled my lips inward, chewing on the bottom with my teeth. "And you're stupid, but somehow I always come back to you," I whispered, my hair covering part of my eyes.

I stared at his lips on my skin, even as he pulled away. He was still holding onto me and I was still straddling him. We locked eyes for a second before that second turned to minutes. My eyes were on his soft and supple lips, my hands not my own anymore.

Then, slowly, he pulled me down from my wrists and I fell into him gently. We weren't far apart, our breaths the on each others skin, the air between us. We stayed like that for a moment and I waited him to move but he didn't. He stayed still and watched me closely. I didn't know how he was able to resist because I was searching for salvation he wasn't giving me.

Unable to take the silence and the stillness, I came forward and pressed my lips onto his. His hands let go of my wrists and I placed the palms of my hands to his chest. I stayed hunched over his straight form lying across the grass and his hands gripped my hips, unable to reach higher. I stayed on my knees and closed my eyes. Despite the persistence reverberating through both of us, he was going slow while I searched for more. One of my hands went behind his head and brought him closer, pressing his lips onto mine. The need was there, but I didn't know if the same could be said for him. Still, I didn't mind, tasting the sweetness of his lips. My legs curved together with his hips tightly as if I were about to fall over and I felt a fire burn inside of me.

When I pulled back and opened my eyes I saw him watching me lazily. I was breathing heavy and he was too, just not as much as I was. I watched him through half-lidded eyes and saw his mouth part. He was quiet for a moment and I waited.

Then, with a voice so baritone and coarse he said, "I think I may be in like with you, Rosalie."

I laughed, my voice rugged and not my own. "And I think I do too."

It was like I was seeing him for the first time.

"Is that okay?" he asked and for a moment I was stunned. He was still cautious, even after what had happened, no matter how scattered his mind could have been. And I felt it—the pain and the swelling inside of me, but it didn't hurt.

Unable to speak, I only nodded, closing my eyes and closing the gap between us once again.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

As we headed back to Virginia Emmett was driving the car that time, one hand on the wheel and another across the seat, curling around my shoulders. My head was resting on his shoulder and my fingers were playing with the hem of his shirt. I felt his chest rumble as he spoke, quiet murmurs as if I were about to fall asleep. Except, I wasn't tired. I didn't mind though, and I didn't tell him to stop.

Everything about us had changed drastically since he got me to drive the Buick. And to be honest, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"So..." Emmett started, his voice wary, but daring, "how long have you been in _like_ with me, Rosalie?"

I shot up from his chest and stared at him. He was grinning and I knew he was getting cocky. I rolled my eyes and settled back on his chest. "I don't remember," I murmured.

He scoffed. "Come on, when did you fall for the man?"

"The man? Really, you couldn't think of anything better?"

"You can call me anything you want: honey, cupcake, sugar—I know how you girls like those words of endearment. Or the man, handsome—"

"That's enough!"

"What? It got you all hot and bothered—_oof_!" I interrupted him, pushing him from his chest with the side of my body. "Not while I'm driving, Rosalie! I know you can hardly resist this, but we have to—_oof_! We're going to get in an accident!"

I pulled away from him and ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the passenger door and kicking my shoes off before hoisting my legs up against the dashboard. I had a smug look on my face as I relaxed and Emmett focused back on the road. I knew he wasn't truly angry—he was so easy to read.

"Please, this isn't all about you Emmett," I said, smirking at him and twiddling my toes that were close to his hands on the wheel. My long legs shifted position so I was crossing my ankles and I saw Emmett's eyes glance down before trying to pay attention to the road. I bit the bottom corner of my lip in concentration as I slid the side of my feet to Emmett's hand, brushing from his arm to his elbow.

He swatted my leg away and I hadn't expected that, almost falling off the seat in the process, but I did see the corner of his lips tilt upward. When I regained my composure I poked at his ribs with my foot, harder and harder as I went until he kept one hand on the wheel and the other grabbing both my ankles. I let out a yelp as he threw—yet gently—put my feet back on the dashboard.

"I know you want me and all, but not while I'm driving. You wouldn't want this pretty little Buick to get ruined, now would you?" Honestly, that was the last thing on my mind. I hadn't even thought about that and I didn't even consider it after he has remarked about it.

I rolled my eyes and leaned my head back, soaking my face in the sun. I closed my eyes and let my hair blow in the wind, stretching my arms over me as if I were falling. My body was stretched out and I was comfortable, despite the awkwardness of my head and shoulders against the open frame. I stayed like that only for a moment however, because out of nowhere the car swirved and I almost hit the side of my head.

I pulled back in and watched Emmett, who had got the car to move at a moderately slow speed and his hands gripping the while tightly.

"What the hell was that for?" I exclaimed, my hair a tousled mess.

Emmett kept his eyes straight forward, the car picking up speed and actually matching the speed limit that time. "I turn around as see your body half sticking out and uh..." he started nervously, not even trying to glance my way.

"You were worried?" I asked him, confused.

He breathed out, loosening his hold on the wheel. He shot me a quick look but turned back, pressing his lips together tightly. "That, and well, your dress _is_... um..." I knew that if he could blush he'd be as red as a tomato right that second.

"My, my is Emmett _The Man_ flustered?" I teased, and for the first time really noticed how tight the dress I was wearing was. It was dirty and I'd probably never wear it again because of how stained it had become, but it was short sleeved with broad shoulders, with a rounded neckline and a floral print of pink, yellow, and green. It was an old dress that belonged to Esme and I didn't know why I wore it when I had my own clothes, but I did. The only problem was that I was much taller than Esme making the dress come up to my knees and exposing too much skin that I hardly noticed, being that I was never around humans. I could only guess where Emmett's eyes had drifted, my legs stretched out and all.

I saw Emmett's brows furrow and I could barely hold back my laughter.

I straightened up and curled my legs around me. I watched him amusedly as he kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, pretending he had not just been at my mercy. I tucked my hair behind my ears and scooted over to him, my mouth close to the skin of his neck.

"Am I... distracting you?" I whispered as softly as I could, giggling at how he stiffened.

I trailed my hand down his arm, resting my head against shoulder and put my feet up again, right in front of him. I saw his eyes—I saw how his eyes trailed down my bare legs.

I started to laugh and probably would have gone in a full blown laughter had the car not travel downward and my scream interrupting my own bliss not a second ago.

My hands came in front of me, but I didn't crash into anything. Emmett's arm snaked around my waist and kept me in place, even as my legs scrambled in front of me.

When the sickening _crack_ came from the front of the car—and I knew the headlights were broken—there was no more noise beyond the creaking under Emmett's weight as he shifted uncomfortably.

Breathing came out in gasps as my wide eyes stared in front of me, even though I couldn't see the sky. I turned to Emmett and grasped onto his arm around me tightly before turning to him.

"Jesus, Emmett, watch where you're going!"

"I was!"

"Oh?" I yelled at him. "Then why did we crash?"

"I should be asking you!"

"What do I have to do with your incapability to drive? When I was at the wheel, I didn't crash once, but when supposedly have been driving for years and get at the wheel, you crash!"

"If you hadn't distracted me then we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"I distracted you?" I screamed.

"Oh my God, please don't tell me you have no idea what you do to me!" he huffed, leaning back and looking up at the roof of the car.

I opened my mouth to retort, but then I paused, looking at him smugly. "And what do I do to you, Emmett?"

He groaned, running a hand over his face. "Please don't make me say it. You should know."

"No, I don't think I do."

"And you call me cocky."

Then, I started to laugh. I couldn't help it—the laughter came so easily. My eyes were closed and my mouth was wide, and I was unable to stop. I heard Emmett sigh and everything under the sun to show his annoyance, but soon enough, I heard him start to laugh too.

We were both laughing despite the car crash and Emmett tried to control himself by bringing his hand to cover his mouth—the hand whose arm was holding me up. Because of the slant we were in, when he had let go I fell forward, half falling out of the front of the car.

My face was the epitome of surprise, but soon the surprise turned into laughter again. My body shook as laughter erupted through me, and I had no idea of the position of my legs or how Emmett was staring right..._ there_.

I heard him inhale sharply and mutter, "You're going to be the death of me, woman." He grabbed my waist again and pulled me back in and I let out a squeal. My dress had ridden up over my thighs and I looked down at it for a moment, my hands trapped around his arm. I looked back up at him and saw his eyes staring so intensely like he was about to burn a hole through my thighs.

"Uh, Emmett?"

"Yeah?" he asked, not entirely there.

I rolled my eyes and tried to shimmy my way out of his grasp, but that just caused the dress to shift around my hips. Groaning, I head-butted him on the side of his face, which got him to snap out of his own reverie.

He stared at me, stunned, his eyes wide and worried. I think he was awaiting my reaction, and I didn't think he was anticipating my laughter to come once again.

"You like me, Emmett. You really, _really_ like me!" I spieled out, forgetting about my dress.

I laughed even harder and he groaned, trying several more attempts to shut me up, but he was never successful.

"I thought we established that you liked me earlier, unless you would like me to—oh, hell with it," he said and he came at me, his lips crashing onto mine.

It silenced me for a moment and I continued to kiss him until I started to giggle. His arm dislocated itself from me and I grabbed around his neck for support.

Even then he kept persisting, his lips tender against mine, and eventually, I went quiet and basked in our kiss, my eyes closed. When we pulled away our foreheads touched and I smiled, and soon, he smiled too.

"You're cute and all, but sometimes you need to know when to stop talking."

I stifled my laughter. "I think... we should get out of here. This is not that comfortable."

"Uh, yeah," he stammered, opening the car door and hopping out, bringing me with him. My arms were still around his neck and one of his arms were holding me up, his arm pressing against my thighs. His other arm was on the car, steadying himself before resting along my back.

When I looked at the car I saw that it had slid down the road and into a ditch. The headlights were smashed and the back-wheels were not even on the ground anymore. There was some minor dents and I knew it could be fixed, hopefully.

I pushed away from Emmett and he let go. I put my feet on the ground and pulled at the hem of my dress, bringing them back over my knees.

"You don't need to do that," I heard Emmett whine from behind me. I smiled and my head was the only thing that turned to him.

"You're sick, Emmett. What would my brother say about that? He can read your mind, you know."

"Oh, so now he's your brother?"

"What are you talking about? He's always been my brother." He gave me a look that was something like not believing me, and about to laugh. "Okay, so maybe I don't like him. But I don't hate him, even though he does act like a smug bastard. He's alright, I guess."

"Aw, Rosalie loved Edward," he teased.

"You tell him, I will kill you. You think it, I will kill you. Ugh, who am I kidding, Edward's going to find out." I put both my hands in the air, faking surprise. I put my hands on my hips and turned to the car, and I didn't even want to check the engine to see if I could fix it. Instead, I turned to Emmett. "We can't just leave it here, and you're stronger than me. So how do you propose we get the Buick out?"

Emmett shrugged his shoulders and walked to the front of the car, inspecting it.

"Well?"

"Well what?" he asked, and when I opened my mouth to speak it turned into surprise as he used only one hand to lift the front of the car from the ditch. Keeping his grip on it he watched me, chuckling at my face.

"What? We're vampires—supernatural and inhuman and all."

"I know. It's just... wow." I let out a forced laugh, brushing my hair back with my hand. I walked to him and looked at the road and back to the ditch. Smiling, Emmett held onto the front of the car again and walked up the hill, dragging the Buick with it.

"Lucky you distracted me while we're in Virginia, so it shouldn't be too long to haul it back home."

"You're going to drag that back home?"

"It's not that heavy when you're not human, Rosalie."

"Still. And it's not my fault, you just don't know where your priorities are."

"Sure I do. It's you, and because of you, we crashed."

"You mean you crashed."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I bet they're worried, so come on." He motioned for me with his arm and I climbed up the hill. With one hand on the car and one hand in mine, we walked back to the Appalachia.

"What happens when someone passes by and sees you?"

"We kill 'em." I snapped my head towards him and he chuckled. "Nah, just kidding. We drop the car and pretend we're having a hard time pulling it. They won't help us."

"How do you know? You told me people are nice."

"I'll stare at them like they're trying to take you from me. They'll back off."

He grinned and I laughed at him before saying, "You're such a fool."

"A fool for you."

And then I swatted him on his arm and he murmured how women usually like the romanticism he tried to offer and I told him I was not like other women and he told me I sure wasn't.

* * *

We were a couple of miles away from the house and the journey took much longer because we had to walk around the town instead of through it to avoid suspicion of Emmett's strength. We had taken a short break at one point to go hunting and refuel, so that also took some time, but now we were walking back to the house and awaiting their reaction after we went missing for the whole day.

Emmett still did a lot of talking and I wondered how he always had something to say, but didn't question it. We were walking through the sparse (thank God) forest when we heard a _whooshing_ sound around us.

I smelled the air and Emmett did too, dropping the car and getting close to me. I looked around haphazardly until I recognized the scent and saw a figure running to us.

He rustled the trees as he came at us and stopped a couple of yards away. It was Edward. He looked at us warily before shooting a look behind him. Then, he turned back to us and said, "Just a heads up—I tried to stop her from worrying, but you know how Esme—what the _hell_ happened to the Buick?" he asked, his voice getting louder and his eyes wide.

Emmett opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted, "Emmett crashed it." I stepped in front of him and kept my eyes on Edward.

"Only because of—" he started, but I interrupted him.

"He's supposedly been driving for years and he crashes it. I drove it and not once did I hit anything or lose control." My hands were behind my back and I stood stiff. Why was I nervous around _Edward_?

Emmett let out a noise that sounded both surprised and annoyed. "That's because you were driving half of the speed limit! It asks for fifty and you're driving a twenty-five! I think dragging the car back was faster than how slow you would have driven it!"

"Well, I didn't drive the car in a ditch, did I? Next time pay attention to the road, Emmett." I smiled and turned way, trying to hide it, but I knew Edward had seen it.

Edward stared at us curiously and then looked to Emmett to hear the story. Clearly, he knew Emmett couldn't lie about _anything_. So I was surprised when Emmett didn't say anything. Then again, you didn't have to say anything for Edward to understand.

In 3... 2... 1...

"That's my sister, Emmett! Holy hell, you don't futz around, do you, Em?"

I turned to Edward, hands on my hips. "Then maybe you should mind your own business!"

"Okay, whatever. I'll go back to the house, tell them you're fine... and please don't get into a screaming match when you get there. My head can't take it." He shook his head and didn't give us a chance to respond. He ran off back to the house which was only a couple of miles away and Emmett and I looked at each other.

We locked eyes for only a second before a smirk came onto my lips and I ran to him. Emmett let go of the car and I jumped at him, my lips missing at first and only reaching the corner of his mouth. I giggled and moved my mouth so my lips were on his.

"You know, sometimes you are such a dolt," I said to him, breathing deeply, "I was trying to veer Edward off, but you have to go and ruin it!"

Emmett kissed me lightly. "Hey, I'm a dolt, remember? Besides, he would have found out sooner or later."

I gave him a kiss.

"Yeah, but... you're _right_."

He gave me a kiss.

"As much as I want to stay like this, we better get going," Emmett said, dropping me and picking up the Buick again.

I huffed and followed after him, getting closer and closer to the house.

Emmett dropped the Buick in front of the house and I watched him, letting him lead the way to the front door. He opened it and when I listened it was quiet only for a moment before a figure came at me, grasping me into a hug. The breath was knocked out of my lungs as I smelled the scent that smelled of cinnamon and blood and knew it was Esme.

"Hi, mom..." I started, giving a nervous laugh.

"Edward told us not to worry, but when you leave without telling us... do you know—"

Edward interrupted his mother. "And they're fine, aren't they?"

Esme looked contemplative and then let go of me, latching onto Emmett. Carlisle stood at the back, his hand covering the front of his face as he tried not to laugh.

I looked at Edward questioningly. _Why did you stop them?_

"You like him, it's obvious. And I don't think you would have liked to be awkwardly interrupted by them," he whispered to me in the midst of the noise coming from Esme and Emmett as he tried to calm her down, flustered.

_I do not—_

"I don't have time for your denial, Rosalie. I can read minds, remember?"

I rolled my eyes and Carlisle was instantly at my side. "You seem happier." He was watching me closely and I knew he knew. Now Esme, she was a different story. He laughed. "You're pretty simple to read, Rosalie. I just don't know if Esme knows."

"Did Edward tell you?"

"He didn't have to."

I nodded me head at him, giving him a nervous smile. "Well... are you okay with it?"

"Are you happy?"

I breathed in and out carefully. "Yeah." And I honestly, honestly was.

"Then I'm fine with it." We fell into an awkward silence and left to get Esme. I glanced at Emmett and he looked nervous and I laughed silently at him.

"We went to the drive-in, ma. In Pennsylvania."

Esme looked surprise, but Carlisle put an arm around her, giving her a look of understanding. Esme relaxed and sighed. "As long as you're both okay, I know. But I like to worry, it's what a mother does, okay?" She pushed from Carlisle's arm and huffed, walking off. Carlisle looked at us and shrugged his shoulders, following after her with a smile on his face.

Edward turned to us and said, "Just remember that people live here."

I looked at him confused, but heard Emmett chortle behind me. I turned to him and his laughter didn't stop until I hit him on his arm to get him to stop.

"What?" I asked him, and he was hesitant. He didn't answer me, even when I gave him a look, and turned away. I went to his face and he looked at Edward for help, but Edward had already walked away. When he knew I wouldn't relent he leaned in and whispered it to my ear.

"Edward! You sick freak!" I yelled through the house and walked to my room, bringing Emmett with me.

"Rosalie, what are you doing?" he asked warily. "You have that look in your eyes and I don't really like that look..."

"Shut up and kiss me," I whispered to him, pushing him against the door and making as much noise as possible. I felt the smile on Emmett's lips and it felt like we were on fire, as if lightening was striking both of us and sending waves from the corners of our lips to the soles of our feet. He tasted like blood from a deer and that made me hungry for more, having eaten less than he did earlier. He also tasted of something else I couldn't identify—something so inherently Emmett that I didn't ever want to know.

The only difference between this kiss and our others was that Emmett took control. His kiss wasn't lax or careful like before, but rough and demanding, his hands finally touching me instead of staying in one place. My arms were around his neck and his hands were in my hair. I was sure he didn't expect his fingers to get caught and we were detoured for a moment as we pulled apart.

"Emmett, get your hands out of my hair," I demanded, trying to shake my head to rid of his hands.

"I forgot there was still some dirt on it..." he muttered, finally pulling free. He wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed my jaw, bringing my face forward again, resuming our kiss.

He tugged on my lips until I parted them, seizing a hold of my tongue. His other hand went to my hip and brought me close, moulding us together. Then he turned me around, making my back hit the wall loudly. I could have given in and let him take control, but I didn't want any surprises and fought back with vigour, pushing off the wall and into the centre of the room because I was too tired and weak to push him more.

But he wouldn't have any of that and pushed me back and the force of hitting my cold mirror and the heat of the kiss extracted a sound from my throat that I couldn't recognize. I stopped, stunned and frozen in place.

Emmett pulled back reluctantly. "What? Do you want me to stop?"

I stared at him lazily and murmured in a voice I couldn't recognize, "No."

His lips came onto mine again.

"You're lucky Esme and Carlisle went hunting before they heard any of you!" Edward shouted through the door and I pulled away from Emmett, leaning my head behind me and closing my eyes, groaning. Then a smile formed in my lips, realizing that Edward was successfully annoyed.

Emmett pulled back too, sighing. He grasped my head and made me look at him, resting his forehead against mine. "We need to find him a girl."


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

It was a week since I had realized I felt something for Emmett and practically attacked him. I had been so drunk on my emotions that I didn't realize how much I came at him. I touched my lips with my fingers. Ever since I had annoyed Edward I had been more cautious, just giving light kisses here and there. It also didn't help that Esme and Carlisle was around, and though I knew they would be okay with it I was still wary. I sighed, my fingers dancing on the piano keys, the window letting in a soft light in the pristine white room.

Esme, Edward, and Emmett were hunting and I had declined their offer, wanting some time alone to just think. Emmett and I gave each other long glances and I knew my parents suspected something, but they never said a word. Edward had also been quiet and brooding and while I would have liked that before, it only caused me to become paranoid.

Unable to play anymore piano I went to the garage, intent on finally fixing the Buick after Emmett had crashed it into a ditch.

What was that feeling? I liked it, even though I wasn't familiar with any of it. How did I feel about him? Did he feel the same way? My fingertips burned at the thought, remembering our outlandish physicality a week ago. I sighed, unable to understand my own emotions.

I opened the garage door softly and saw all the tools lying around, scattered. The house was almost unbearably empty.

"Finally fixing it?" I heard from behind me and jumped, turning around.

"I thought you were working?" I said, relieved at the sight of Carlisle.

"They told me I was overworking. I came to see my family, but only you're here."

"They're hunting."

"Why aren't you with them?"

"I needed some time to think."

"I guess I'm ruining it then, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I'll go then," he said, backing out of the room. I looked away and back to him.

"Wait!"

He paused.

"Emmett and I... am I just wasting my time?" There was no need for an explanation because I knew he knew. Even though his presence here was scarce, he was very observant, keeping a watchful eye on everything and sometimes even more brooding than Edward, albeit friendlier.

"Why would you think that?"

"It's just that... I don't know. I don't know this stuff."

He furrowed his brows. "Maybe you should just ask him."

"It's not easy to just ask him. You know what had happened."

"To me, it looks like it's much easier to say things when you're... you know," he said, incredibly awkward talking to his pseudo-daughter about it.

"Was it that obvious?"

He nodded his head. I sighed.

"Then why is it easier for me to do... _that_ and not talk about it?"

"Rosalie, ever since I first met you, talking things out has never been your expertise. You're better at doing rather than listening, which is why it was probably more easier to feel something for Emmett headfirst rather than saying anything at the start."

"But now I'm stuck."

"Now you are stuck. You got the easy part out of the way, and now it's time to actually talk about it with him."

"I knew you'd say that."

"Now I'm going to try and find the rest of my family. We haven't spent much time together. You're welcome to come." He looked expectant, but it wasn't that look on his face that made me want to go. In fact, I missed them. I really did. I couldn't stand to be alone—not for too long.

I gave him a small smile, pushing my head back and staring at the ceiling. "I think I will."

"Good."

We walked outside to the May weather, the sky inviting dusk, and looked at each other for a moment—he turned his head to me and I shifted my eyes to him—before breaking out into a sprint and having a race through the forest. We jumped through trees and expertly darted through, just grazing past each tree. The leaves rustled as we went before falling calmly back into place.

Carlisle was looking at me as we ran and even though he had years of experience, he had not expected a tree to be in his way. I was still running when I saw him fly back and immediately halted, my face right in front of another tree. I turned and jogged back to Carlisle, who was on the ground, clutching the front of his face.

I couldn't help it—I started to laugh about his pain. My laughter was strange and not as melodic as my voice and it sounded like I was dying, and I was in a way—dying of laughter.

"How long have you been a vampire? A million years?"

"Two hundred sixty-eight," he said from the ground, standing up and dusting off his pants.

I kept laughing at him. With all the laughing I had done I expected to have run out, but there I was.

"You should laugh more, Rosalie," Carlisle said, standing beside me and looking deep into the forest.

"Emmett says that too," I replied. Or was it smiling? Same thing.

"At least you know he's not a liar."

"No, he isn't," I said almost flatly, trying to deter the conversation. "Now don't hit another tree, _old man_."

"Excuse me, kitten, but I'm only three years older than your boyfriend."

"It sounds so weird when you say it," I said, and I didn't really know _why_.

"Is it because I'm your father?" he said, and that was it.

I turned and looked at him solemnly, almost expressionless, and nodded my head. I forced a smile and curled my lips together, embarrassed at the sudden honesty. I breathed out slowly. "Well I'm hungry and I can smell them not too far away," I quickly said, motioning for him to follow and running closer and closer to them.

When we reached them we saw some animals scattered along the ground, but I knew that they weren't done because their hunger had not been satisfied. Their eyes were pitch black, and soon mine and Carlisle's did the same.

"Looks like I win," Emmett announced, smiling at me.

"Win what?" I enquired.

"He"—he pointed to Edward—"thought you wouldn't come, but I proved them wrong. Thanks, babe."

I rolled my eyes at him, unaware as they stared at me after what Emmett had called me. Honestly, I gave it no second thought. "Whatever."

"Aw, we're just like a real family," Emmett added, spreading his arms out.

"Yeah, Carlisle is a real dad—he's old," I said, not able to maintain a straight face, and started to laugh. No one laughed with me at first, but then I heard Edward chuckle.

"You ran into a tree?" Edward asked, but he didn't need an answer because he knew the truth. Soon, Emmett started to laugh, and then I heard Esme's distinct laughter too.

Carlisle's head snapped towards her, "You're supposed to be on my side, Es." When no one responded, he stood there, surrounded by laughter, before announcing, "Well, I'm hungry, and when you kids are done you can join me." He turned and stalked off, and Esme looked up at him, grinning.

Then, she turned to us. "I'll go with him." She was smiling as she ran, trying to catch up to him.

"I'm hungry too." I didn't even wait for their response. I sniffed the air and smelled a deer close by. Not wasting a beat, I ran towards the scent and as I saw the deer, I threw myself onto it before anyone else could, flinging it backwards a few. I could see it... I could feel it... the steady pulsing on the animal's sensitive veins. The tantalizing blood that would flow from my my hungry mouth to my chin. My eyes were lusting and longing, my eyes never tearing away from the animal as I sucked it dry.

I heard Emmett a few feet away from me with his deer, and swiftly, I turned my head to I could see his face and he could see mine. Beyond Emmett I saw Edward and that crooked smile of his, a fear provoking smile, revealing his sharp teeth that glistened with the dimming sunlight.

When the animal was bone dry I dropped it, tilting my head back and closing my eyes, my mouth hanging open as I breathed in the sweet scents swirling around me. Just thinking about draining an animal brutally from its neck, drinking away the last bit of life force from their body, it made me tingle. Crimson stained lips, with a dried out body left to die on the ground.

I smelled something else close by and my eyes were hard and relentless with a lost dark look as I tried to find the next deer. The world seemed to slow down as I came at another one. It struggled violent, trying to break free, but my grip never even shifted, and I gave it so little room that it couldn't even breathe. I saw it: the fear, fear like an ice piercing through their heart, and suddenly I had no control as my teeth grazed them.

Emmett came up behind me, having finished his deer. His head was on my shoulder and he whispered, "I want to suck your blood." It was just like Dracula, except Emmett held no Transylvanian accent. His voice was low and dark as he smiled and I snapped my head to look at him, wondering if he was talking about the deer or me. His lips grazed the skin of my neck, and I could feel his smile growing wider.

My eyes fluttered until I felt the deer get snatched from my hands and I turned to see Emmett running only a few yards away. I ran at him and took the deer back, basking on its blood. Emmett came back to me and I tried to push him before he crushed me; his face nuzzled on my neck, his hands also on the deer. Giving up, I pulled the deer from him hard before throwing it right at him. He looked surprised and I laughed, running off, blood stained and all.

My blond hair cascaded around my face and all I could hear was my heavy breathing as I tried to smell out my next prey. I breathed for only a split second before I caught another deer, making sure Emmett wasn't around because I was too hungry to play his games. I could feel the fear in the deer as it pulsated out of its body.

When I was done I ran to see Emmett drinking from a deer and jumped onto him, knocking the deer from his hands. He looked surprised but smiled at the sight of me and kissed me through bloody lips. It was a light airy kiss and I pulled away, grabbing his deer he wasn't finished with and looking back at him and almost running into Edward. I smiled at him tauntingly—though I didn't know _why_ I would be taunting him—and saw Esme not far behind, hearing and smelling Carlisle close by too.

"I'm full," I said, eyes on Esme. She smiled and looked at Edward, who was looking behind me.

I turned my head just as Emmett was near me and brought the deer to my lips, finishing his deer off and throwing the dried out body to him. Emmett didn't catch it, he just let it fall to the ground and stared down at me.

"That wasn't very nice Rosalie," he said, feigning seriousness.

I stuck my tongue at him. Childish, yes, but I knew it was something Emmett could comprehend.

He scoffed and I noticed how bloody he was. He ate really messily because all of us looked like we hadn't just killed a bunch of animals. I stared at him in disgust, especially his soaked shirt, and back at him. He looked down too before looking at my clean clothes and smiled.

"What?" I asked him, suddenly wary.

He smiled—actually, no, he was grinning. "Rosalie, give me a hug," he said, covered in blood.

I took a step back, even more disdain evident on my face. "No! Only when I'm wearing old and dirty clothes!" I yelled at him, although my voice was light and almost laughing. I backed away and looked disgusted and amused at the same time.

"C'mon Rosalie, I know you love me," Emmett taunted and I had to bite my lip from laughing. I couldn't hold it though and started to laugh, my mouth wide and grinning and my eyes lighting up. I turned away from him, but that proved fatal because I felt myself being lifted from the air and soon the cool liquid of the deer's blood seeping through my clothes and onto my skin.

"Let go Emmett!" I said between giggles, grabbing a hold of his wrists and trying to pry him off of me. His hold didn't loosen at first, but then he froze. I took his momentary distraction to get him to let go of me and jumped down to the ground. I turned to him and followed his eyes which were right on Esme and Carlisle. He looked wary, Carlisle was smiling, and Esme looked hesitant, albeit smiling as well.

I knew what they were thinking, especially when Esme's gaze fell onto mine. I started to laugh. I had been doing a lot of laughing lately, but I could never help it when Emmett was around.

"It's been like a week mom, and even well before that. Please tell me you had your suspicion," Emmett said quietly, worry dripping from his voice.

"Oh, I did, but I'm still surprised." Esme laughed, her eyes getting brighter as she turned to Carlisle, who was tyring to hide the smile on his face, but failing.

"This is awkward," I said with little emotion in my voice.

"Rosalie's just embarrassed," Emmett teased.

Silence stretched as we all stayed in place, a smile on their faces but none on mine. We were all quiet and all that could be heard was the soft rustling of the wind. Despite not being a real family, the awkward silences between parents and children made it seem like it—and the thought of it was pleasing; comforting even.

Esme cleared her throat and we all looked at her. She was looking at me and she smiled. "Well, I'm full. Carlisle?" She turned to him, but before he could even say a word she walked over to him and held his hand, "Let's go back to the house, I have to show you something." Carlisle agreed, grinning and hinting faint lines on his face, but even with them, he still looked so young. They ran together and I watched their fading bodies and heard their voices echo through the sky.

When I turned back I saw Edward walking off in the same direction as Esme and Carlisle. "I really don't want to witness with my eyes whatever it is you two are going to do. Be safe, kids."

"Kids?" Emmett scoffed, "Bro, you're seventeen and I'm twenty. Even Rosalie is older than you."

Edward turned to use, shaking his head and smiling. "I was born in 1901, years of wisdom right here," he said, tapping his head with his pointer finger.

I almost choked as he said it and all Edward did was merely shrug his shoulders before turning away again.

When all of them were gone Emmett turned to be and enquired, "Are they always going to be awkward around us?"

"They're just trying to get used to it. Hell, I'm still trying to get used to it. It's not as awkward when they knew you liked me and I didn't exactly reciprocate, though."

Emmett laughed. "Yeah, that was awkward. But now that you're mine, and I can't stop thinking about you, Rosalie." He walked up to me and was smiling, his hands running up and down my arms before resting on my shoulders. Our foreheads touched and I was closing my eyes, but we weren't leaning in.

"Why do you say that? It's only been a couple of hours."

"A couple of hours too long."

"How many women have you said that to?" I opened my eyes, laughter evident in them along with the smile on my face.

"Only you, actually."

"And how many women have you ever felt something for?"

"Not many, but you're still the best I've ever had."

I looked down, smiling at his evasiveness. "And am I really yours?"

"Too soon? But I would think I was yours."

"Then I guess you're mine and I'm yours. And you should change your clothes," I told him, looking down at our touching chests.

Deciding to be daring, I grabbed onto the front of his shirt and pulled, _hard_. It ripped into my hands and I ran off to the house, making him shirtless. I heard him behind me and I laughed, stumbling almost blindly through the forest. I had to resist all urges to turn back and look at him because I knew he would catch up as I unintentionally slowed down. So instead, I kept running and even as I burst through the door, I dashed into my room. I heard Emmett shortly after and heard him come close to my shut door, but instead of knocking or coming in unannounced, I heard him turn, mutter something, and go to his room.

I rolled my eyes whilst smiling and pulled out a clean dress from my closet, putting the tattered shirt on the side of my vanity. I slipped it over my head after slipping my old one off. I ran my fingers along the fabric and looked in the mirror, giving a twirl around and watching my hair flow behind me. I grabbed a brush on my vanity and brushed my hair so it was smooth and untangled. Then I leaned close against the mirror, inspecting my face, running my eyes through every part of me, making sure I was presentable. I pulled back and huffed, getting jittery for reasons unknown.

After the inspection of myself in the mirror got too much, I left my room and went into Emmett's without knocking.

As I walked in I took a step back, coming face to face with Emmett's back as he grabbed a shirt from the floor and put it on, buttoning it up. I was silent, but I knew he had heard me. His head turned and I stared at him, my mouth slightly parted.

"You like this shirt?" he asked, turning around and spreading his arms out.

"It's nice. You like this dress?"

"It's nice."

I snickered.

"So I was thinking that we'd see a movie again. Except not a scary one. And you can't say no because you owe me for ripping my favourite shirt."

"Emmett, that shirt was orange."

"And?"

I just regarded him and shook my head, shocked at his oblivion, and saw him start to laugh.

"Okay, it was an ugly shirt. Anyways, I was thinking more romantic."

"Emmett? The romantic type?"

"Hey, I'm just giving a girl what she wants."

"And you think I want to see a romantic movie? Not a scary one, maybe?"

His face fell. "You don't want to?"

I laughed. "Just kidding. But the Buick's not ready after you _crashed_ it," I taunted him.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "It took us a _day_ to get there with your slow driving. And yeah, I know, I crashed the car—because of you—so I thought we'd go on foot. We _are_ vampires, aren't we? Might as well put it to good use."

I laughed only briefly because soon Emmett was out of my site and the leaves rustled as he rushed past them. Rolling my eyes in slight annoyance mixed with amusement, I ran after him, catching up to him easily. He was running at a moderate vampire's pace, and he slowed down once we were outside of Virginia and inside the middle of West Virginia.

"Jesus, Emmett, haven't you ever heard of a heads-up before you just take off?"

"Taking off was going to be the only way to get you to come without an hour talk. Admit it, Rosalie, you're just like that."

I stared at him for a long time, a bit surprised of how well he knew me—how well he even knew the little things. "Shut up," I remarked lamely, light and a little bit agitated, a lot more delighted. He started to laugh and when he didn't stop and when I didn't even try, I told him, "Okay, fine! I'm going to leave you here, Emmett!"

Even though I tried he still seemed unaffected. He did stop laughing, however, only it transferred to his eyes and mouth and entire face and body. "Come on Rose, I know you want me!"

I regarded him incredulously, and didn't really know what to say. So when worst came to worst, I went to denial. "No. I. Don't."

Emmett started to shake his head and let his head fall back—his hands grabbing a hold of his suspenders. When he came back he watched me and asked, "Then why'd you save me, huh?" Next, he began mocking me, in a stupid high pitched girl voice, " 'Emmett, shut up!' 'Emmett, how many girls have you said that to?' 'Emmett, go away!' 'Emmett, I want you so much but I won't admit it because I'm stubborn and in denial!' " Then he began to grin as he chuckled, but his chuckle didn't last long because I tackled him to the ground.

The air was knocked out of him and he looked genuinely surprised as he fell. When he regained himself on the ground, he looked up at me and said, "For a girl you really put a fight Rose."

"Oh? And what's that suppose to mean?" I asked, sitting on his waist and narrowing my eyes at him. When he didn't answer I took some dirt from the floor and held it up above his face, smirking.

"Okay, okay, I surrender!" Emmett said, and I came off of him, dusting my dress as Emmett tried shaking his entire body to get the dirt off his back. I helped him with that, running my hands up and down his back, trying to dust him off.

As Emmett complained I decided to turn and walked away from him, letting him catch up to me later. I wasn't more than a couple of yards away from him when I saw a man emerge from his parked car along the side of the road. I didn't give him a second glance—just sparing him one last a second—but his voice rang through the air.

"Hey pretty woman, want to catch a movie with me tonight? Ladies choice," he said, not beating around the bush. He was smiling and disregarding that Emmett was close by, and while this man obviously didn't match Emmett's size, he probably thought he was bigger through the amount of money he had.

I watched him as he leaned on his expensive car—dear God, was that a Cadillac?—and dressed in a fitted zoot suit with brass buttons and a fedora in his hand, uncovering his tousled blond hair. His smile was like it was straight from a movie and his eyes gleamed under the warm falling sun.

His voice was that of the south and his fingers drummed the hood of his car as he waited. I stared at him, stunned, and turned to Emmett, who looked like he was laughing silently, the dust on his clothes forgotten.

"He your boyfriend? Girlie, he looks like he makes twenty cents a day," he rattled on, blocking what was left of the dying sun from his face with his hat.

"Forty cents an hour, actually," Emmett pitched in, staring right into his eyes. Even in the distance, his eyes were piercing.

The man quickly looked away, focusing back on me. "And a looker like you deserves the best." He finished it off with a smile, opening the passenger side of his car.

"So you're calling me a harlot?" I asked him, and Emmett chuckled beside me. I smiled smugly at the man.

"No, it's just that—"

"I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate you trying to take the run-out with me."

"The Bruno over there? Tell me pretty lady, what's he got that I don't?"

I rolled my eyes at him, getting a little bit angry at what he was going at and what he was tyring to do, but to my surprise, Emmett remained calm throughout. I hadn't heard him walk close to me so our hands were almost touching. The smile on Emmett's face never faltered, and I knew he wasn't scared of him—and why would he have to be when he was like twice his size?

I was ready to curse him off when I felt Emmett's hand in mine. "Look, you sap, I don't appreciate you trying to ask out my girl." Despite the words, the way he said it was so carefree and I knew nothing could faze him.

"And I don't get why she's with a man like you—especially with the longest gams like hers," he said, his eyes travelling to my legs.

"Wait a second! You got money, right?" I asked him and he looked up at me, hopeful. His eyes got wider when I pulled away from Emmett's hand, taking a step forward. I didn't know what Emmett's face looked like and I didn't really want to know.

The man nodded, his mouth a tight lipped smile.

"Then why don't you," I practically breathed out, my voice soft as I stood a few feet away from him. He smiled and stepped close, but I spoke before he moved any closer, "Get one of those harlots by the street corner? They don't care about what you don't have—if you know what I mean," I said haughtily, my eyes trailing down _there_ for a split second before I smiled. Soon that smile turned into a laugh and I confidently turned away and went to Emmett, who was full out laughing. I took Emmett's hand and we walked off, not looking at the man who was probably fuming.

"So am I your boyfriend?" Emmett asked cheekily.

"That depends, am I your girl?"

"What if I said yes?"

"Then yes, of course."

"Good, because I was going to offer to take you to the drive in before that boob decided to intervene."

And before getting a chance to say anything, he took a hold of my hand and ran with me to Pennsylvania. We started off slow—a mere jog to not spark curiosity from onlookers—before running like the speed of light through the forests and edge of town. And if anyone had seen us, well, they wouldn't have been able to identify who we were.

When we got to Orefield we started to walk, and as we walked I fixed my tousled hair and straightened my clothes. Emmett didn't even bother, even with his rumpled clothes. I didn't mind his curly hair though—all bed head despite never having gotten any sleep for the past months. The drive-in wasn't that busy—a moderate and selective few, all from rich parts of town with their nice cars and all. Someone honked their horn behind us and we moved out of the war, seeing a woman rolling her eyes as her boyfriend drove through.

The lights illuminated through the almost black night, welcoming anyone will to pay twenty-five scents to roll in with their expensive car. I stared at the drive-in, coming to one conclusion on why we wouldn't be able to go in, but Emmett grabbed my hand anyways and made a beeline towards the cinema.

"Emmett, I'm pretty sure we need a car to go in a _drive-in_," I said, halting my step.

Emmett sighed as his hand fell from mine. He turned his hand and replied, "But we don't have a car, now do we? Besides, it's more fun to sneak in. We'll wait until the movie starts and we'll get in."

"You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

He smiled and pulled me along, looking left and right, up and down, before tiptoeing and crouching past everyone alongside a big blue truck. When we got in he pulled me to the corner where we hid in the darkness. Some of the headlights would turn in our direction, lighting up our pale faces and I would turn away in Emmett's embrace.

"What if we get caught? What happened to paying for what has to be paid?" I whispered harshly to Emmett, pulling his face so it was in level with mine.

He rolled his eyes. I looked at him expectantly. "I say a lot of things, okay?" he started to say but when I heard the sound of hushed whispers silencing and the booming noise of music accompanied by a bright light, I turned, wide-eyed, to the screen.

"Shh! The movie's starting," I interrupted, leaning close grabbing his wrist, pulling him to me, content where we were standing. I was smiling at him and soon after, a smile broke out along his face.

His eyes were laughing, dancing, and bright. "No, no, no, no Rosalie, we're going to watch it up close," he whispered, scooping me up, causing me to gasp in surprise. It was louder than I thought so Emmett had to clamp a hand over my mouth, but as he took me closer to the drive-in his laughter was evident that I reached up and covered his mouth as well.

I was giggling as he tried to tiptoe slowly, but he wasn't as graceful as he thought and made more noise than I thought possible. His head whipped around and he shifted his body so fast I felt like I had whiplash. He must've gotten caught by someone because then we sped close to the screen and in front of all the cars.

He practically threw me on the ground to hide from the audience in front of us and I was glad I didn't feel any pain because I started to laugh and Emmett tried to get me to quiet. I never did.

But then we heard some car doors opening and we were pretty sure we made such a ruckus that someone was curious that I rolled over and sat on top of Emmett.

He was sprawled on the ground while I sat up, my head darting back and forth and my hair whipping around my face. When I looked down at Emmett, my face frantic, he looked pleased. He was smiling even. I glared at him and his smile faltered and we heard approaching footsteps.

If that hadn't caught me by surprise, Emmett pulling me back down had. We rolled around again like we were wrestling and Emmett's body lay on top of mine. He looked down at me and my blond hair was sprawled along the dirt alongside the darkness. He reached down and pulled my hair closer to my head, trying to cover me completely.

I looked up at him and noticed his dark attire along with his hair blended with the night and giggled at his poor attempt at camouflage.

He looked down at me and seeing that I wouldn't be quiet about the situation—because who could really?—he kissed me. I still smiled alongside his lips and all I could hear was our heavy breathing and approaching footsteps. I screwed my eyes shut and my fingertips pressed against the dirt, awaiting what would happen next.

I didn't expect what happened next, but then again, I sort of did.

"Someone's out here!" we heard a man say and Emmett lifted his head away from my lips, his eyes wide. I turned my head and saw a man coming our way and when I turned my head to the rows of cars we saw a couple of people staring at us. We were louder than we thought.

"Oh shoot," Emmett murmured.

"Looks like we got to cut the movie short," I said to him, smiling.

"Looks like it."

And before I could say anything and before anyone else could interject, Emmett lifted me and made a mad dash out of the drive-in. We had to have been in West Virginia by the time he stopped. We were in an open field with long grass before he fell to his knees, dropping me and causing me to roll along the grass before stopping. I was staring into the night sky and stretched my arms and legs, closing my eyes.

"That was fun, we should do it again sometime," I heard Emmett say from above me, and I opened my eyes to look at him.

And it was _fun_. I didn't think I ever had that much fun in my life, and all it was was a simple trip to the drive-in.

"We didn't get to see the movie, Emmett." I smiled, my voice light and my eyes shining.

"The movie wasn't the point, Rosalie."

"I know," I said softly, reaching up and grabbing his face tenderly. He chuckled and when he blinked I pulled him, sending him crashing beside me. "Except my hair and clothes are all dirty," I said half-lightly, half-scathingly.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're fine whether you're all clean or not?"

"Maybe I say it because I like you're reasoning, even though most of them don't make sense. Some of them are sweet though," I reassured.

He didn't say anything after that, choosing to lay beside me. My left side was touching his right side, our hair meshing together—more like my long hair getting tangled in front of his face—our shoulder bones pressing against each other, our fingertips lightly intertwined, and his ankle over mine. My eyes fluttered shut and I thought for a moment I would dream of anything. It seemed possible.

"I really like you, Rosalie."

"Me too."


	31. Chapter Thirty

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

We were lying on the long grass for hours, just staring at the stars. Time was lost and it meant nothing to us, because we never slept. It was alright though, and I was content. We made idle conversation here and there, but for the most part we were silent as we were comforted with each other by our side. At least, I felt that way.

Emmett tried showing me some constellations he had learned in school—and I had also learned he liked astronomy, or anything that seemed outdoorsy or required being outside. He was an outdoors kind of person, to which I admitted I spent most of my time inside. Cue Emmett shooting up from lying down and staring at me in astonishment, which I had given a nervous smile.

Then he proceeded to point in the sky at the stars which, from my position, had no idea where _exactly_ he was pointing, and all the creatures he was trying to get me to see were just a cluster full of stars.

"You have to use your imagination!" Emmett said, pointing harder, shaking his hand as if it would make me notice.

"I'm trying and I still don't see Ryan," I told him, annoyed. I gave up and stopped looking at the sky and to Emmett instead.

"_Orion_. Look, there's his arrow… and his body… and his arm in the air…"

I shook my head, not even looking at the sky anymore. "Yeah, I don't see it."

Emmett groaned, frustrated, and fell back to the ground. I propped my head on my hand, laughing as I watched him. His eyes darted to mine and grabbed onto me, bringing me on top of him.

"Okay, no more astronomy for you. How about we delve into some chemistry?" I rolled my eyes pulling away from him. "Okay, okay! Maybe not chemistry, how about physics? Hmm?" he enquired, raising his brows. I also raised mine, but I wasn't as amused.

We didn't spend a long time at the open field after that, and soon we started to head back to the Appalachia. We weren't in any rush, however, and instead of running we walked, talking about anything and everything.

And in the midst of one of our conversations, I realized how scary the situation I was in was. There was a piece of me that was broken from my body and he had it, whether he knew it or now. I'd like to think I had a piece of him too, I just didn't know what. And it was a scary thought to depend on someone, but… I knew Emmett would be there—since when had he not?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Emmett asked, having stopped walking. I didn't notice, but apparently I had stopped walking too.

I looked at him for a long moment, just watching his burning gold eyes. There was the constant lingering smile on his face—it was his default. I bit the bottom of my lip, averting my gaze before shaking my head all too quickly, obviously flustered. "No, just thinking about stupid things," I blurted, laughing at myself. I grabbed Emmett's hand and we continued on our way.

"So that means you weren't thinking about me if it was stupid, right?"

I giggled, shrugging my shoulders. I gave him a tight smile before a full blown laughter escaped my lips. "Okay, I am thinking abut you, and no, it's not stupid. You're great. Amazing. _Handsome_," I complimented him, shifting my eyes from his face and onto the road ahead of us.

I was a completely different person. I wasn't who I used to be in my human life—Emmett had changed that. And I didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. I didn't think I wanted to know.

* * *

When we had returned home it was very late and I was very happy. I was lying on my bed with Emmett sitting on the edge, smiling at me. The walls had ears so none of us were talking, just watching each other. My hair was dirty and my clothes were a mess, yet I stayed in them. It was strange, because now I didn't mind it. I liked it. It was _fun_. And I wanted to do it again and again until I was breathless.

Everyone else was home, but we didn't talk to them—we went straight to my room. They didn't mind though, just continuing whatever they had been previously going on about. I heard their hushed whispers but didn't grasp onto what they were saying. Ignorance was a bliss.

"So what do you have in store for tomorrow?" I joked with Emmett, sighing and shifting my eyes so I was looking at the ceiling.

Emmett scoffed. "_Tomorrow_? Woman, we're vampires, we can spend all day everyday doing whatever the hell we want."

"But wouldn't that get… tiring?"

"Babe, when you're with me there's no such things as being tired."

"Someone's modest."

Emmett eyes me suspiciously. "Alright then, if you're so keen on being sarcastic and want to go to sleep, then I guess we can." He smiled devilishly and I had no idea what he meant, but before I could even think it through he came to me, trapping me underneath him. His arms went around me and his nose was on my cheek, his lips tracing my jaw line.

I released a long, low groan even I couldn't recognize before tilting his chin up and bringing his lips to mine. He made a noise in the back of his throat that I felt on my lips as he kissed my lips softly. And I could feel the burn and our legs intertwining until I curved a leg around his. My hand ran down his back and there was a fire I felt despite his skin being ice cold. It was slowly smouldering its way up my spine and if I was content with one thing about being a vampire, it was the ability to prolong my need of oxygen.

We were lost, and if the house had crumbled around us I doubted either of us would have noticed. He was unraveling me with one fiery kiss at a time. My fingers were twisted in his curly hair and I pulled at them, feeling them go straight before springing back to its curls. I could feel the contours of his abdominals through his shirt as it pressed against my stomach.

If I had a heart it would have been fluttering wildly in my chest, coming up in the back of my throat. Emmett's mouth moved across my lips with deliberate languor and he felt so warm. My fingers eventually clung to his shirt, pulling him closer. We soon began to attack each other, struggling for dominance none of us were willing to give up.

He was getting to me with his lips, teeth, and tongue. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to get him too, and he pulled back, bringing me with him. My back was inches from my pillow, putting us in an awkward position.

And soon it wasn't about power or dominance or submission anymore. It was about each other; purely about being with each other. To me, there was no I, but him, and I would assume it went the same for him because I cared about him.

Because I loved him.

I stiffened at the revelation.

_But I had loved Royce, and look where that got me._

I couldn't do this.

Not after I had realized something I didn't want to know. Not after Royce. Royce was still in my mind, I knew that much. And as much as I wanted to finish what Emmett and I started, there was no way I could go through with it with Royce in my mind. I would cry. In fact, I think I already was. I wouldn't be able to think straight, and Emmett on top of me wasn't helping. But before I could voice anything, I felt Emmett's hand lingering on my thigh, my dress having ridden up to my hips.

"Emmett, stop…" I breathed out, agonizingly. I couldn't recognize my voice—it was low and husky.

"_Stop it! Royce—" I screamed, but I knew it wasn't more than a whisper that just came out choked. I couldn't see now, I let my eyes close. My head hurt… everything hurt. I felt something on my head, trickling, and I wondered if it was blood. I could smell it and it made me want to vomit. I felt my blouse getting torn open and more hands again. I tried one last time to fight back, and one of them started to punch me every time they saw skin._

He must've gotten the wrong idea because in no way did I sound like I was crying. Then, he said just as lowly as I did, "You want to go to sleep now?" he teased as his lips were on my neck.

I ceased all movement and I felt my eyes go glassy, but that was impossible because I couldn't cry. Still, I felt the world around me go blurry and distorted.

"Please get off of me," I whispered to his ear, my voice languid and pleading. And I thought for a moment he would ignore me, that he would keep going until he got what he wanted. That was all they did anyways.

My hands started to shake and I moaned in pain, and soon I couldn't stop sobbing. And like a shooting star, he was off of me, but even then, I trapped.

"Get out," I murmured to him, my eyes on him, but at the same time not looking at him.

"What is it Rose?" Emmett asked, coming closer to me. I cowered away.

_"What is it Rose?" he growled, breaking my hold and putting one of his hands at the top of my chest. He slid his hand down the centre of my body, but I took a hold of his hands once again._

_"You're drunk, Royce," I told him._

_But that didn't stop him. He lifted my dress so it was resting on my hips, the other hand on top of my dress and on the underside of my breasts. He started to kiss me again and I hesitated. I never kissed him back._

_Soon both hands were on my hips and I flinched, his touch cold. He held onto me though and started to rub my thighs, getting higher. I put the palms of my hands on his chest and said through our kiss, "Royce... not now."_

_He paused briefly before continuing. I took a hold of his hands again and stepped back. I was having trouble breathing right. "You're drunk," I repeated._

_"No Rose, you're hesitating," he said, his eyes lazy as he touched my leg again._

"Get out, get out, get out!" I yelled at him, out of control.

Emmett's eyes fell from my eyes. "Rose!" he yelled at me, trying to get my attention.

"_Rose!" someone yelled, and I knew that voice anywhere. What was once gentle was now deafening._

"Rose, I'm here, what's wrong?" Then, without warning, he came to me and wrapped his arms tightly around me.

"_Here's my Rose!" Royce shouted and stumbled to me, latching onto my arm and bringing me to them. I was scared, but soon I became angry, angrier than before. I tried to push him away, but his hold was too strong around my thin wrist._

Emmett's hand ran through my hair, trying to calm me down.

_They all laughed and Royce pushed the hat away from my head. "Your hair's too pretty to be covered up," Royce slurred before he reached for the jacket he had bought me, brass buttons and all, and tore it off me. While doing so he practically yelled, "Show him what you look like, Rose!"_

"Rose, don't cry. Shh…"

_I could see five pairs of shoes and I knew they were all rich, I could tell just by the shoes. Anything to take the focus off and into something else. I saw Royce crouch down and grab onto my hair. "Your coat wrecked your pretty hair, Rose. Have you been crying? Oh darling, don't cry." He wiped away my tears, but I knew there was no meaning behind any of it. I slapped his hand away and he hit me on the side of my head._

I was breaking, cracking, shattering, and my body was separated from my mind, my bones too delicate to hold, and my eyes too fragile to look at. I was not myself and I felt the pain weighing down on me like heavy smoke and going through my skin, reaching every bit of me. The damage was done.

"Don't call me Rose!" I bellowed, pushing Emmett away from me with strength I never knew I had.

"Why? I've done it before," Emmett asked. His murmuring went unnoticed. Maybe if he spoke a bit louder. But his voice hurt my eyes. He reminded me of so much.

I didn't hear anything else he had to say because I ran out of the room, pulling the door back so hard that it came off the frame. I ignored it, dashing to the front door. In the corner of my eye I saw my family, but I kept going and they didn't stop me. I also heard Emmett, but all that made me do was run faster.

And soon, I was gone.

I ran all the way to Pennsylvania—to the drive-in Emmett and I had went to. I sneaked in and was watching a horror movie, but I wasn't paying any attention to it. I was off in the corner and far from all the cars, covered by the night and the trees that provided even more shadowing. I was standing up and my arms were wrapped around myself as I leaned against the fence, closing my eyes for long moments and opening them for just a little.

I shouldn't be here. This place was too familiar and reminded me of Emmett, but I think I needed him even if he wasn't physically there. And even though I had pushed him away, another part of me sought him out.

The air was biting against me and I was still wearing my muddy dress. I had neglected to bring shoes and dirt was getting between my toes. I shifted my weight back and forth because I couldn't stand still, couldn't concentrate on anything. I wanted to fall asleep. I wanted to fall asleep forever.

At the end of the movie, as all the cars were leaving, I trailed behind them. I didn't even care if I was in the light and I didn't even care if they could see me—I just kept going. I heard some voices asking what I was doing, but I didn't answer any of them. When someone would stop their car and come out of it, I would just glare at them and they would cower away. If they didn't I ignored them, and if they asked any more questions I ran off.

Now I was back at the field, lying on the long grass. Except this time, I was without Emmett. I was trying to recreate the day, trying to find what went wrong. I knew what went wrong. A part of me just wasn't willing to admit it. I thought about my bed and the kiss and the fire and the burning and the pulling and the love, love, love.

Love.

I shut my eyes as that one word brought Royce's face into my mind. It shouldn't have because they held no correlation between each other, but they did and I wanted to know why. But there was no answer, and even if I wanted one I couldn't get it because Royce was dead.

I would live not knowing and he would live terrorizing my heart, my life.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to will the images away. Soon, they evolved into images of that night before Carlisle had found me, and at the same time what had happened with Emmett played alongside it.

I gasped, opening my eyes, trying to breathe. The stars were staring right back at me. The brightness was mocking me. The sheer beauty of it was on fire.

I would never forget him, never ever again. He destroyed everything. And Emmett would just be the same. I spent the rest of the night just staring up at the stars, trying to find the arm and the bow and the body—anything to distract me.

I couldn't find it.

I was so lost.

* * *

When I came back in the early crack of morning, my mind still a complete and total tangled mess, I saw Emmett sitting on the doorstep, watching me. As I moved closer, he didn't move a muscle, but his face gave everything away. Emmett wore everything on his face, and his eyes were wary, his mouth tight, and when I looked at his still hands, they were balled so tightly that I was sure he would have been able to knock down the entire house with just one punch.

Slowly, I made my way to him, stopping a few yards away. When I was that close to him, I saw him—I really saw him. He looked like he was in pain.

"Emmett…"

His eyes met mine and slowly, he smiled. He still didn't move. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. "Rosalie," he started. I waited. "I'll probably never understand, but that doesn't mean I won't be here."

I shook my head at him, every previous emotion starting to attack me. "Just… just go," I pleaded with him. No matter how much I wanted his comfort, I knew right now I just needed to be alone.

He nodded without question and stood up, walking past me and into the forest. When he brushed by I had froze and he noticed, but kept going on. Pressing my lips tightly together, I went inside the house and straight to my room. I heard the front door open and close again before being greeted by silence.


	32. Chapter Thirty One

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

I breathed in deeply, contemplating. What was I contemplating? I didn't know. Okay, I did know. I just didn't want to admit it, because then that would make it real.

Emmett.

His name reverberated through me, pumped my still veins and pushed blood into my frozen heart. And I didn't fully understand it yet, but he had melted a piece of it. I thought of everything leading up to that moment, trying to find where I went wrong, but there was nothing. All of that had happened for a reason, and one thing ran true.

But I couldn't say the word—didn't will myself to say the word, but it was there whether I wanted to acknowledge the feelings I held for him. And he promised he would always be there, and that was all I needed. All I needed was the source of comfort I knew would be with me for all of eternity. Emmett was true; he was nothing but the truth. Even in the darkest of days he still managed to shine so brightly.

He spoke without thinking. He acted without wondering of consequences. And that was fine, I was fine. It made him Emmett. Even though I sometimes reeled him back, the fact that he said what he wanted made me see him without walls, without defences. He was defenceless, and he didn't mind. What I saw was what I got. I was just a mess behind the walls I put up.

I heard a commotion outside of my room and I tried to not listen, but it was so hard when the rest of the world around me was silent. I heard them all, but mostly Edward's voice. I heard hushed murmurings and since I was dazing, trying to focus on something else, I couldn't hear what they were saying. It would only make me angry.

I almost didn't notice when someone had opened my door. I cracked my eyes open and saw Edward standing at the door.

_Where's Emmett?_

"He's out hunting with Carlisle. You know, we were having a good family day yesterday, and now you're sulking."

_Boo hoo, go and cry a river._

"I don't think you know exactly how much he cares about you."

_I do_. And the truth was I did. _I was scared_.

"You're scared."

I hated that Edward knew exactly what I was thinking sometimes. I was silent after that, thinking of something else. Months of experience—of hiding things from Edward—came in handy. I thought what he wanted to hear, what he expected to hear.

Except he didn't believe me, or a single thing I was thinking. It was something short of amazing how he knew, how well he could read me. He didn't speak a lot, but he was perceptive and I didn't know whether or not I hated him or could tolerate him at all. Edward was an enigma to himself and I would never admit it, but he was interesting in his own way, and I knew why Carlisle and Esme and Emmett liked him.

He was always _there_, even when you didn't want him to be. He would be there, always. Running away wasn't an option for him, but I knew he had his own worries. I just never bothered to talk to him about it. And I wasn't going to start.

_Get out, Edward._

I thought he would listen, but what did I know? Edward was as stubborn as they came. So I wasn't that surprised when he stayed. I sighed and turned away from him, but I could smell his presence still lingering in the air.

"Do you need me to say it out loud?" I asked him, my voice venomous. I turned to him and said, "I told you to get out of my room."

But he persisted, keeping his ground. He was calm, his hands were lying idly at his sides, his breathing even, and his eyes looked slightly bored and relaxed.

"Edward," I warned lowly.

"Rosalie," he repeated.

I rolled my eyes, giving up. Normally, I wouldn't surrender, but I didn't want to deal with him or Emmett or Esme or Carlisle. The feelings I felt were none of their business.

"I think it is. You show yourself enamoured with him in the forest, and all of a sudden it's your business? Yet you make it public?"

I ignored him and stood up, breezing past him. And I would have kept walking had it not been for his words to cut so deeply into me and twist as I bled.

"You love him," he said, and it wasn't a question because he knew the answer—whether or not he chose to read my mind. I didn't answer, but he pressed for one. "You do, don't you?"

I sighed, looking away from him. My fists were clenched and my body was tense. "Why are you asking a question you already know the answer to?"

"I want to hear you say the words. I want you to admit it to someone other than yourself."

"You already know the answer, Edward."

"I need to hear you say it. If you say it, you'll possibly expose it to whoever is around. You need to let it go."

I looked down and would have kept walking, but I knew if I did he would be right and so, so smug. I would lose and he would win and he would be right like he always was. I looked him straight in his tawny eyes and he didn't look pompous or assuming, but understanding. I looked away from him, but kept darting my eyes back and forth and right back at him.

He was right. And maybe it was better that way—for today. So I looked up at him with forlorn eyes, completely vulnerable and completely not myself. "Okay," I whispered, as if the walls had ears and I didn't want them to hear. I pursed my lips together and I knew that I really, really did. No one had ever made me feel this way. "I love him."

Edward visibly relaxed even more than he already was, and I felt like I was crumbling—the walls were crumbling. Emmett had broken through the foundation, and now Edward was breaking the pieces one by one.

He obviously didn't expect me to admit it so willingly, probably expected a fight, because he murmured, "Rosalie…"

"Stop, Edward. Please, just don't. Don't tell me how stupid I am, or how I don't know what I'm doing, because I don't want to deal with it right now."

"Rosalie—"

"Just get out."

"You're not stupid. You care for him, and he cares for you. He was there even when you drove him away." I didn't say anything, not knowing what to say. "Are you going to tell him?"

I shook my head at him, not even considering it for a moment.

"Why?" he asked, curious.

My lips pressed against each other tightly and I felt my chest tighten. I stared right at Edward, forgetting how much disdain I held for him, how much I didn't like him, and how much I felt he invaded my privacy. I forgot who he was and where he came from and just let everything I felt that built up over time wash over me and out of my mouth. "How do I know he feels the same way? How do I know that I'm not just wasting my time? How do I know he'll tell the words back to me?" I sputtered, looking anywhere but Edward's eyes. I couldn't stand his penetrating gaze.

"You don't."

"Oh, and that's supposed to help me?"

"I'm telling you the truth, Rosalie. I'm not going to lie to you because I know you don't like it if I beat around the bush."

Well he was right with that. "Why don't you read his mind and tell me, so I'll know if it's okay for me to say it," I suggested, not even asking.

But Edward would have none of that. "I can't do that."

_Yes, you can._

"No, I can't."

"Why not?"

"See, Rosalie. This is why you'll probably never have Emmett. You're scared. You over think everything and don't do anything for yourself. You have to forget what others will think. What do you think? What do you want? That's all that matters. And I know you want Emmett, but you won't tell him, because you want him to want you to. But you'll never know if you don't give yourself the chance."

I glared at him, but he wasn't fazed at all. I crossed my arms over my chest and pierced my eyes through him. "You're wrong Edward. What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if I make an idiot out of myself?"

"Then you make an idiot out of yourself."

I groaned. "Just read his mind and tell me Edward."

He shook his head. "This isn't my battle to fight. This is yours and Emmett's. You never wanted me to invade your privacy so I'm not going to."

"It wasn't like that! Besides, what if he hurts me like Royce did? Do I just kill him too, to make it go away?"

"You're not over Royce, Rosalie. Just because you killed him doesn't mean the pain is gone. In order to really love him, you have to be willing to sacrifice yourself. You have to be vulnerable and he has to see you at your weakest, just like you have to see him at his. You have to tell him not knowing what the answer will be. You have to be willing to expose yourself to him. This is your battle to fight."

"And what if I lose?"

"Then you lose. So next time you'll try to win."

"It's not that easy."

"No one ever said it was," Edward finished. He gave me one last look before turning and leaving the room and I stayed put.

I was thinking to myself, looking around the room, and trying to grasp what it was I was feeling. I didn't know what it was and I didn't know what I was doing. I needed someone to understand it for me.

"Esme," I barely whispered, but I knew she heard me. And in less than a couple of seconds, she was up in my room, standing by the door. When she saw me, she came to me, the maternal look in her eyes I had always longed for visible. "What do I do?"

Before she could answer I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face on the crook of her neck. If I could cry I knew I would—I was just so confused.

"You have to tell him how you feel. What do you feel when you think of him?"

"Lo—" I choked halfway, not able to finish it, but she knew what I was going to say. Her hand ran up and down my back, soothing me, as I tried to calm myself down and rearrange the emotions bouncing through me.

"I think you know what you have to do," Esme said to me, pulling away from her hold and giving me a small smile. "Emmett's with Carlisle right now. He'll be back soon—that's when you should tell him."

And I knew I would; I should—I had to.

She gave me one more smile before leaving and I knew I couldn't ignore how I felt. I knew that if I did that Emmett could possibly leave me. I've ran away from him over and over again and he didn't need that. He would always wait for me and I never really noticed how I treated him because I knew he would always come back, but it was down to the wire and I didn't know if he would come back after what I had done—how much I had hurt him. He barely came back this time, when I was broken. It was only a matter of time before he left me completely.

The thought of being more than friends was a scary thought, but I couldn't deny what I felt. Four words I couldn't say, but knew were there.

"I lo... I... Emmett..."—the words were dry on my lips—"I love Emmett," I mouthed out, my voice lost. No one had heard me, not even myself. I just mouthed the words without making a sound, but what I felt was real.

Love… so that was it. It hardly surprised me, to grasp the word so quickly out of nowhere. Edward made it clearer, no matter how much I loathed him one moment and tolerated him the next. I loved him. No, not Edward—I loved Emmett. He was everything I dreamt of as a little girl. He was the kind of man I wanted my mother to push me to, not Royce. And without him, I would be a lost little girl all over again, all alone. There was a hot rush running through me when I thought of my dependence on him—how he ruled my happiness.

He gave me strength to do what I wanted to do without wondering what others would think. Thinking of Emmett kept me strong and persistent, albeit damaged. I loved him, vampire or not, with real memories, or false memories. Nothing else mattered. I loved Emmett.

It probably showed in my face, surmounted by long waves of blond hair, shining through my soft, yet sharp features, my rosy-lipped smile and pale skin. They seemed to be a whisper of my life, reflecting each one of my losses, now screeching through on my now sallow skin and constant haunting despair. My brows narrowed.

And if he didn't feel the same way—well, I wouldn't know what I would do. So I could I say the words? Would I be able to let myself go like Edward wanted me to do? It was just so hard. I couldn't even admit the words to myself.

I stayed in my room until I heard them coming. Edward and Esme were in the living room—Edward on the piano bench and Esme on the sofa not too far away. I knew they had been conversing, with Edward doing all of the talking.

I rushed past them and outside, where I saw Carlisle and Emmett coming, their figures becoming more and more visible. They were walking languidly, and I waited by the door of the house. I knew they had spotted me because Emmett stumbled momentarily. When they were close enough I walked to them, having Carlisle brush past me, glancing at me briefly. I looked back at Emmett, who had stopped moving, and I saw his eyes watching me closely.

A small smile appeared on my lips and he reciprocated.

"Hi," I said to him, my voice deep and husky, something I couldn't recognize.

"Hi," he said back just as deeply and slowly. His voice was small and soft and all too knowing.

There was a long silence after that and I found myself opening my mouth with something to say—I just didn't know with what. And I couldn't take my eyes off of him and he looked equally contemplative.

After a long string of silence, Emmett sighed and looked down before looking back up at me. "Do you like me?" he asked, but it wasn't a plea, didn't sound like a plea. It was just a question looking for an answer and I didn't really know what to say back to him. My voice was lodged in my throat so I only reacted. I nodded.

He didn't say anything after that and I cleared my voice. "Of course I do," I finally managed to say. My voice was so quiet and low and unrecognizable. Hell, I was unrecognizable.

"And do you feel anything more than that? Do you feel… do you feel like you're in love?" He sounded so cautious and so unsure, that I didn't know what to make of it. If he felt like he was in love, surely he would have sounded more enthusiastic, so right of himself, but he didn't.

If I told him I felt something he clearly didn't feel, I would look like a fool. When I looked at him he was looking away from me and I knew I was such an idiot for thinking Emmett was anything more than a friend; a man I had rescued.

So I shook my head at him slowly, and when his eyes met mine he looked smaller. "I don't feel anything, Emmett."

"Why?" he asked and I wondered why he wanted to know. He got what he wanted since I knew he didn't feel anything for me, yet he was persisting.

"You know why. Ever since Royce—"

He interrupted me, frustrated. "Rosalie, stop lying. Stop it with Royce."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are. And Royce is preventing you from admitting how you really feel about me."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are! And I'm not going to tell you to just get over it, because I'm in no position to say that, but you can't let it take over your life because eternity is a long time to be bummed out."

"So what you're basically saying is for me to get over it?" I asked angrily.

"Rose," he shrugged his shoulders, "you've just got to learn to focus on new things, better things, like I do."

"Like you do?" I was at lost for words, completely stunned at what he was telling me. "You don't know what it's like, you don't know what happened to me, and you weren't there, so don't tell me to get over it."

"I think I have every right to."

"No, you don't, Emmett—"

He was frustrated, I knew.

"Yes I do, Rose! I went through hell the first couple of days… even weeks! The pain I felt… I left behind a mother, a father, and a ton of brothers and sisters… my friends… you could say I left a damn whole town. I knew everyone and everyone knew me, but one day I just have to leave without saying bye to them all and live secluded in a house with four other people. Do you know how much that killed me, everyday? It's the little things I can't do anymore. I can't tell my brothers to come swimming and push 'em in the lake when they're moving to slow, I can't help my sister make her dolls or punch the guy in the face who broke up with my other one. I can't help my father at work and I can't be the first one to taste ma's pies fresh out of the oven. Not anymore. Not ever.

"Yeah, we're different, but when it comes down to it we're all the same. We're hurting and missing something and so scared at what we've become and what hurt us to make us this way. I got the bear that almost killed me, but I'm looking at the bright side of things, because there always is one. There's never nothing, there's always something. You've just got to make an effort to find it.

"I'm trying to move on and I'm letting myself feel again. You're so scared and I want to help you, but you won't let me. I know the way you feel about me—I don't need to be Edward to know."

What was that feeling fluttering through me? I looked at Emmett and he looked angry, something I had never seen him in. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them I was looking somewhere else, not wanting to face him and how right he was.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I spat at him, my voice cracking. "I don't know what else I can say. You're making me feel things I never thought I'd feel, not after Royce. But sometimes I wished Carlisle never got a job at Appalachia so we didn't move here, so I wouldn't feel this way. I'm scared and you're the only one that seems to understand, but sometimes I wish that Carlisle didn't move here so I wouldn't have made that mistake and agree to go to town with Edward—"

"So I'm a mistake?" Emmett said bitterly, exasperated. "You were never supposed to find me and we were never supposed to meet? You don't think that everything I've done for you didn't mean a thing?"

I took a step back, away from his furious eyes. "No, Emmett, I just say things I don't mean—Emmett… after Royce—"

"All you do is compare me to Royce, and I don't know who he is, but I know he hurt you. You didn't have to tell me what he did for me to know. And I know you're not over it, but you have to trust me, and I know that's a lot to ask for you, but I can't keep playing this game. I'm on my knees half the time, begging, and all you do is walk away and come back and walk away again. I can't do it anymore Rosalie! How do I know you're not going to leave me again?" his voice was soft, yet strong. It was passionate, yet infuriated.

Instead of taking a step back I took one forward. He was on the edge, on the brink of leaving me, I knew. And he was right because he was on his knees, and he always came back to me. I ran off and he would find me, and if he couldn't find me, he would wait. I couldn't afford to lose him, but I didn't know how deep I had sunk and whether or not I would be able to reach the surface before he drifted away.

"Because I won't," I whispered, my voice not my own. It was so quiet, so lost, and so scared.

Emmett shook his head at me, at my short answer. I didn't know what else to say— not after all he had said. And I knew he had been expecting more. I knew he thought I didn't care.

"And how do I know that?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

With my head still down, I only lifted my eyes to meet his. "You have to trust me." I breathed deeply before lifting my head up and looking him straight in the eyes. "Emmett, you're not Royce. It's just… it was so hard for me and I'm so sorry for everything I did to hurt you. I like you, Emmett; it's just that I…"

He shook his head. "This is a two-way street, Rose. How do I know you're not just going to compare me to him again?"

"Because you're not the same, I realized," I practically moaned out, distressed and forgiving. He stood so straight and his eyes looked so compassionate, wanting to believe me, but not entirely there.

"How is that?"

"Because Royce liked me because I was beautiful, but I'm beautiful because you, because you Emmett McCarty, like me."

_Love, love, love—say it Rosalie!_ I couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. I couldn't let it go.

He didn't say anything.

"Right, Emmett?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? How can you not know?"

"I just don't. I think I feel more for you than you feel for me."

_Say it, Rose! _

_I_ _can't_.

His voice was so sure that I didn't know what to do. I wasn't expecting that answer and I wasn't prepared on what to say. I was already telling him what I felt—something I had never done before, and I was crushed. Maybe Edward was right, maybe I had to tell him how I _really_ felt without walls and without knowing what his answer could be. I had to vulnerable, defenceless, and at his mercy. I had to surrender myself for the moment, and take a chance.

I had to, or I would lose him forever.

His eyes were right on mine and I told him just as his mouth opened. "Emmett, I lo—" My voice was lost.

"You're just going to leave me again, is that what you're going to tell me? Say I'm just like Royce?" he interrupted. He looked so defeated and I had never seen him so small. His uplifting demeanour was gone, his smile was wiped off his face, and his confident stance was nothing but an empty shell.

"No, Em—"

"Maybe it'd be better if we spent some time apart, just so I could think, and so you can think too. I want to sit down and talk about it, but you're always running away from me, and I don't want to tie you down just to get you to listen."

I couldn't speak because I didn't know what to say. And because I knew he was right. I was too prideful, I knew it. I was at a loss for words. "Emmett, don't, we can talk, I'm not going anywhere."

Emmett came to me, held my hands, and I thought for a moment we were alright. "Just for a bit, okay? I'll come back, I just need to think."

"About what?"

"About us."

"What's there to think about? I can't stop thinking about you, Emmett."

"You can think about me when I'm gone. It'll be the best for both of us, and when I come back; we won't be able to stop ourselves." He smiled softly as he said it, and I couldn't look in his eyes.

He tore his hands from mine and backed away, but I stood still. He gave me a small smile and then turned, walking away as if he were human. I didn't move, I couldn't move. I just started to yell at him, "This is just one of our arguments, right? I'll leave and when I come back you'll be here! You'll be waiting! Right? Just like you always do!"

But he didn't answer and soon he was gone, and my narcissistic self hadn't run to him.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

_Just let it go_.

But it was too hard.

_Too hard or are you just making excuses?_

It had been a day since Emmett had left and I had not moved from the vicinity of my room. I had not eaten and all I wanted was to be left alone. Carlisle and Esme had been outside my door more than once, but I only responded to them in very curt sentences. Soon they gave up, and I sort of did too.

What was I doing? I never acted like this, much less for a _boy_. It was always the other way around. I curled up on my bed and spent most of the day reading, trying to deter my mind from the inevitable.

I missed him and when he was gone, the world seems so much significantly less populated. I missed the way he would laugh at every little thing, the way he would brush back insults, the way he forgave and forgot, and the way he was always smiling—as if he were infinite. And in a way, he was. In my way, he was.

Edward had not come once and I was hungry. I didn't know how long my eyes had been onyx, how long I had thirsted for blood. Just thinking about it got me crazy, but then I would remember his fleeting face and my appetite would disappear.

It was mid-afternoon and Carlisle had left for work and Esme had gone hunting. I didn't know if Edward went with her, or where he was at all for that matter. Despite my ability to hear the littlest of things, Edward hadn't made a single noise that I was aware of, and it was like he wasn't even here.

Sitting up, I strode to the door of my room and pressed my ear against it. The floor creaked under my weight and I didn't even try to be quiet. My hair was a mess—not brushed and unkempt—and my clothes were wrinkled and still stained from when I had been with Emmett. I closed my eyes and for a moment, wished I was far away from here.

"I love Emmett," I said to no one—the first words I said with emotion and vulnerability and frailty ever since he left. With my body pressed on the door, I slid to the floor and kept my eyes closed, trying to forget about pain and heartache. "I love you, Emmett," I whispered, sitting with my back to the door, tilting my head back.

"He loves you too," I heard Edward say on the other side of the door, and I snapped my head in that direction. "I can read minds."

"I contemplated answering, but in the end just gave in. "I _know_ that."

"Just checking," he said simply, and I heard him sit down and press his back against the door as well.

I thought of getting up and leaving my position beside the door, telling him to go away, and telling him to leave me alone, but I just stayed put instead. Both our backs were pressed against the door and I could feel him as if the piece of wood wasn't in our way.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked him.

"I live here."

"You know what I mean."

Edward chuckled. "Well, I don't know why you're so sad. You got what you wanted: you drove him away."

"I didn't want that."

"Rosalie, you're smart, but you're also very stupid. You wanted him to leave, so he did—unconsciously, of course. There is no doubt in my mind that you love him just as much as he loves you, but you're scared. You're still scared and you have to get over it or you'll never have him."

"Since when are you full of wisdom?"

"Ever since I could read minds."

"So you're telling me it's my fault?"

"Precisely. You may have hope after all."

"Shut up, Edward."

"Look at it this way: Emmett spent days, weeks, months, getting through to you—getting to know you. Even when you pushed him away, he came back. He saw an opening to the wall you put up and he went in without you even knowing. You've told him more about yourself than any of us know because he found a way to talk to you. He knows more about you than my own mind can read. You smile—hell, you _laugh_—when you're around him. And the funny thing is, he doesn't even know about Royce. And he didn't care what happened when you were human; he only cared about you _now_. And every time you ran away, he was waiting for you. Catch my drift?"

I did.

"You're pretty, beautiful, gorgeous. Anyone with eyes can see that and I'm sure you've heard it a million times so it starts to get redundant. But what Emmett saw was much more than that. To him, you were beautiful because of the way you acted; who you were—and even though I can read his mind I still don't understand how he sees that." He chuckled at the last part and I rolled my eyes. "Now it's time for you to do something you're not used to, you have to surrender yourself, or you might lose Emmett."

He was quiet after that I stayed sitting idly by the door, just looking at the ceiling.

"But I already tried, and lost."

"Like I said, next time you'll try to win. You're changing Rosalie. You're a lot different from when I first met you, and it gives me chills—but the good kind. Emmett's a good guy, despite what he thinks sometimes…" he trailed off, and I imagined him shuddering. "You're _happier_. Okay, this is getting way too sappy for my taste."

I laughed—it was real.

"See! Emmett's a patient guy, but I don't know if he'll wait forever. You have to go to him; you have to show him just like he's shown you already."

"It seems like you're in love with Emmett yourself."

"Believe it or not, Rosalie, but I'm a nice guy. Besides, I don't want you staying cooped up in your room forever, worrying Carlisle and Esme. Even though you can be a bitch—"

"And you a bastard," I chimed in.

"Right. Even though, you're still my sister. We show our empathy behind closed doors, whereas everyone else in our family makes it known to everyone."

"Okay, okay, I see your point, now please stop with this heart-to-heart we're having. It's so _sweet_ that I'm practically about to melt here—and not in the good way."

Edward laughed. "Okay. Just… just cut the guy some slack. He's trying, and you're not easy to please—_really_ not easy to please—but even he's gone through to you." I scoffed, even though the verity in his words was there.

At first I didn't pay any attention to what Edward had said, and not given it much thought either. We had sat in silence for a while more until Esme came back and Edward left to greet her, and I was alone again. That didn't last long though, because eventually I left the room, much to Esme's surprise and delight, but instead of saying anything I went straight to the garage.

Frustratingly, I began to tear apart the Buick. I didn't rip it into pieces per se; I just tore out parts that could be put back on. When I was done all the pieces were scattered along the floor and my hair was a mess and I was breathing heavily. Then, as if I hadn't been the one to practically destroy my car, I began to put it back together.

I excepted it to take hours—as it usually did when Emmett was around, asking inane questions right after the other and failing to get the right tool I needed, thus slowing down the process—but it only took half an hour to finish. It was much faster when I knew what I was doing.

So I ripped everything apart again. I tried to take my time, but it only added fifteen minutes to how long it took me to put everything back together.

When I was done with mine for the fifth time—and insanely bored of it—I looked to Edward's Bentley. I had never really touched it so it might give me some time, but right before I took a step I heard, from outside of the door and probably in the living room, Edward say, "Don't even think about it."

I rolled my eyes and turned back around, sliding down along the wall and to the floor.

Bored out of my mind, I also realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten in a long time and I needed fuel or else I'd go crazy. Sighing, I picked myself up from the floor and lazily dragged myself out of the garage and back into the house. Edward was playing the piano and I heard Esme's voice every so often, making idle chitchat.

"Hey," I said, strolling inside and sitting on one of the chairs.

I could practically feel them both stiffen at my sudden appearance, but I tried to pay no heed to them. Instead, I looked right at Edward, raising my brows at him, and he continued the piece he was playing that I didn't recognize. I hadn't played the piano in so long.

Leave it to Edward to decide to stir something within the family. "Rosalie here is going to try and get Emmett to come back. She needs him," Edward said easily whilst his fingers danced on the keys. He said it as if it were what anybody talked about, saying it in passing.

I scoffed, and if I were close enough I would have kicked him in the shin. "I don't _need_ him, I just want him. Needing and wanting are two different things, Edward. I want his company. I want him. I want Emmett. Now who wants to go hunting with me?" I added the last part quickly, having let my mouth control what I was saying before I could think it through.

Edward looked as if he were about to laugh, probably jovial at my outburst, to which I glared at him. He was unaffected. Damn him.

Dependence was hard, I knew that, and even I knew I wouldn't fully commit myself heart and soul and body into one person. I needed that for myself, and that was where I stood. Emmett had me more than I had myself though: he had my trust, and I trusted him more than I trusted myself. And in the end, that mattered more than everything else I had. But did I trust him after what he did to me—after he left me? I shouldn't, but I did. Even when he was absent he still had so much power over me.

I knew Edward was in my head, so I promptly told him to get the hell out—to which I assumed he did. Despite his annoying nature, he knew when to give privacy when privacy was due.

"Esme?" I asked her. She smiled at me, but turned to Edward.

"I already ate, and I know you don't like it when people are just waiting for you. So why don't you take Edward with you? Edward?" she asked, but she didn't need to. Edward couldn't say no to Esme and neither could I—or Carlisle, for that matter. You didn't mess with Esme.

I didn't wait up for Edward as I headed out the door, basking in the late May heat. I was already running, and I ran _far_. I ran farther than what my family and I were used to—I ran to Tennessee. I ran into one of their forests and created havoc as I killed any animal in sight. By the time I was done there were dozens upon dozens of animals scattered along the dirt.

And in a strange, twisted way, it was morbidly beautiful.

Edward still hadn't come and I still didn't care.

"Someone's hungry," I heard behind me and I froze. My eyes widened.

"Emmett," I choked out and I heard him come closer. My back was to him and I didn't dare turn around. I could feel him move like a shadow behind me. And despite wanting him more than I ever could, I still couldn't let myself go because of fear that I'd lose myself as well. "Why do you even bother?"

There was a pause and I thought for a moment that he had not heard me.

"I don't know," he finally said, and I still hadn't seen his face. He was so close to me now—I knew he was right behind me. I closed my eyes and I didn't know what to do. I had no control over everything and I had no idea of the outcome. Now I kind of wished Edward was here.

There was an even longer pause after that and I walked away from him. I was right beside a tree when I stopped, noticing that he hadn't moved from where he was. So I turned, facing him.

He didn't look different—he looked the same. He was wearing the same clothes and he had the same hair and the same eyes and the same face, but his smile was different—as it wasn't there. We stared at each other for a moment and I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me too. My fingers curled and uncurled repeatedly and our eyes were just looking right into each other's.

And before I could blink he was right in front of me—his hands resting on either side of my head, my body lightly pressed against the tree. His body was dangerously close, blocking any escape. I hadn't noticed that I had been breathing hard. Emmett's head sniffed the side of my neck and the air around us and I noticed his scent as well. It was nice. That was really not good, to suddenly be intoxicated around him. I was a raging volcano bubbling against the surface of my skin.

Then my mind went foggy. My vision blurred and it was like being alone in a dark room. But it was his voice, his soft voice that brought me back to the light.

"Do you want me to come back?" he asked, having me right where he wanted. I was vulnerable, but even then, I couldn't let him have me completely.

I looked right into his eyes, piercing through, and shook my head at him. There was a sad smile on my lips that morphed into something crueler the moment I spoke. "I never wanted you gone," I whispered harshly and lowly with as much strength as I could muster in my weak and tired voice. I wasn't used to following my heart, not yet, so I thought with only my head.

Emmett nodded solemnly and I looked away from him. Slowly, his arms relented from the sides of my head and he took a step back. He was still looking at me, I could feel, so I shifted my eyes to his. I wanted to look away but our eyes were locked onto each other's.

Unable to stand his presence any longer, I turned and began to walk away. I had no particular destination, I just needed to move. And soon, I heard him walk away too, but I didn't look to see where he was going. I kept moving, even after there was silence and I knew he was gone—he was never quiet whenever he walked through the woods. I ended up in Sevier County and didn't give it much thought until I realized Emmett would probably be there. And even then, I didn't turn back. It felt as if it were a dream, when I had seen him, but that couldn't be true because vampires couldn't dream. But with him, I challenged that notion Carlisle had set upon me.

I was thankful I had decided to overeat because even with the wafting smell of humans, I had no temptation to feed off a single one of them—especially not after Royce.

I wandered around, avoiding Gatlinburg, before I saw Edward. He was watching me closely and I had no idea how long he had been there. I glared at him, marching up to him and pushing him, nearly knocking him off balance.

"What are you doing here?" I seethed, my voice low as I tried to deter attention away from me.

"I could be asking you the same thing. You were going to come here before you even knew yourself."

"How'd you know?"

Edward rolled his eyes and pointed to his head. "You can't keep forgetting Rosalie. You're smarter than that."

I sighed, defeated. I had no strength to argue. Everything had happened so quickly and here I was. I looked at Edward, who was watching me with concerning. "I saw Emmett."

Edward's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything and waited for me to continue. The thing was I didn't know _what_ to say.

"And I basically told him to leave even though I didn't say a word," I said, laughing at myself even though there was nothing to be laughing about. "Just tell me what he's feeling. Please," I pleaded, not playing Edward's charade anymore. I was done for and so tired and I always screwed everything up. I just needed to know.

And he must have read my mind because he sighed—a long and equally tired sigh. He looked conflicted, but he eventually relented after a moment. "Emmett feels the same way you do, if not more. Whenever I get inside his head he's always thinking about you. I'm surprised you're so blinded." Edward licked his lips, his eyes on mine and his voice drawn out and quiet. "He thinks spending time apart would be for the best—to give you time to think. You have no idea how much you confuse him and me and Esme and Carlisle. He didn't know whether you felt the same way so he wanted you to be without him to make you realize you needed him as much as he needed you."

I couldn't believe it. He didn't know whether I felt anything? But I _did—_I still do.

"You're not that easy to read, Rosalie. And he doesn't know what happened with Royce."

I was looking away from Edward, my eyes trained on the floor as I let his words sink in. I was hiding so much and Emmett was as open as he could possibly be. He let things go, he told the truth, and he said what he wanted whenever he wanted. I envied all of it.

"Lucky for me, I'm here to help. That and Esme and Carlisle wanted me to talk to you. Carlisle's not that good with the heart-to-heart kind of things," Edward said contentedly. I glanced up at him from under my lashes in confusion and saw him smiling crookedly. His seriousness had disappeared from his face and I wondered if anyone possessed my brother.

I frowned at him and Edward chuckled. I knew that despite having a medical degree and being a successful doctor, Carlisle wasn't that good at having a heartfelt conversation with his children. He tried though; I had to give him that. It was Esme who was more empathetic, but even that could be too overbearing sometimes. And Edward… well, he was a surprise, to say the least—a moody surprise.

Edward frowned and I laughed. "That's what you get for invading people's privacy. Anyways, how do you propose to help me?" I asked, turning away from him and starting to walk away. Edward fell to step beside me and he walked a bit further ahead, leading the way.

"Easy, I can read minds and I knew where Emmett was going before you even found him."

"So you're a stalker now?"

"No, I'm just looking out for you."

"Right." Edward was smiling a genuine looking smile again and I watched him warily. "Has Emmett been rubbing off on you? You seem less severe—like you finally shat out that stick from your ass."

A deadpanned expression appeared on Edward's face and I smiled, trying to hold back laughter. It came out tight and my eyes were laughing as well.

"Anyways, he's staying at his parent's house."

I stopped moving and Edward turned to look at me. The look on my face was hard and surprised, my lips parted. "What?" I nearly screeched. "Is he stupid? Does he not know of—of the danger?"

I would have rattled off even more had it not been for Edward interrupting me. "Yeah, I don't like it either. So you should admit that you love him so he can come back. He was in Gatlinburg the entire time, feigning humanity."

"And his parent's didn't wonder where the hell he had been for six months?"

"Apparently the camping trip he took when he you found him—he was supposed to be in University, so he told his parents he was coming from school."

"But his brothers were with him the entire time, they should know something's wrong."

"Emmett probably got them to lie for him, I don't know. Or he told him about what he was."

"Oh my God…" I muttered. I looked around the county, trying to collect my thoughts. It was then that I noticed all the eyes on us as people walked by. I glared at them all, making them all turn away.

Then I walked back up to Edward and we started moving again. We were silent and I didn't want to speak in case I caused a scene—which I knew I was capable of. Even then, I could feel the eyes trained on us. I was ready to snarl at the unwanted attention but Edward held me back by murmuring to me to not even bother. I frowned at him, but listened.

"You do know why they're staring right?" Edward asked. "Look in a mirror if you forget."

It took me a couple of seconds to register what he was saying before I fully understood what he meant. I had forgotten what it was like to be stared at, to be envied, and to be at everyone's attention. I glanced around me not too conspicuously and saw almost everyone's eyes on Edward and I. It was unsettling. I had not been around humans or large groups of people so openly to notice how long I went without.

And that was all they saw, all they knew about me. I was beautiful to them, but that was it. They'd never know that I was a vampire, that I liked cars and the piano and the drive-in and rolling around in the grass without a care of whether or not I got dirty. They would never know and to them I'd only be good at being beautiful.

Girls didn't like me—didn't think there was anything more to me than my vanity. Boys didn't like to talk to me either for that same reason. I was shallow, cold-hearted, and didn't care about anyone else but myself.

But that wasn't true. Was it because of the image I projected that had people think that way about me? I didn't smile, I didn't laugh, and there was always a scowl marred on my face. I was always at home or spent time walking through Rochester alone or accompanying my father.

Had it been my fault that I was always alone as a human?

If people had seen me the way I was with Emmett, would things have been different?

I was guarded, even before Royce, but after him everything just intensified. My father worked constantly and my mother was too busy primping herself, wondering what people thought about her and what dress she would wear to attend a party she had been invited to for the fourth time that week. I was her doll she dressed up and brought along with her to said events, showing me off to potential suitors I never had a say for. If they were wealthy and had power, I was to be courted by them. That usually happened twice a week—more if she wanted me to rival her friend's daughter.

There were many men, but every engagement was broken after I screamed at my mother. She slapped me the first time, but after she knew I wouldn't marry a single one after the first date and after a few dared to propose, she relented in bringing me to extravagant parties. And from there, I learned that men—and women alike—were superficial creatures, wanting to stake claim at every beautiful thing they saw to add to their collection. Everything was a competition in their world. And with that, I became unattainable. I purposely attracted attention everywhere I went to the delight of my mother, but wouldn't dare let anyone completely have me. I flirted, but at the first sign of ownership and possession, I fled. I didn't let anyone see who I was because they would take advantage of that to get to me, to try and own me. It was part of their game and I had to know what they were thinking before they did.

By showing them someone else, they would be seizing a fake, and when they thought they were about to dominate me I would turn away.

People hated it, the game I played. My mother did too, and she yelled at me for growing old without a suitor. I was only seventeen. My father wasn't around and my brother's were working at such a young age. But the games were fun. I was showing everyone that they couldn't win me and that they couldn't get a hold of me.

Eventually, after the gossip about me had spread, people stopped talking to me. People stopped trying. And I knew I had won.

So why did it make me feel so empty?

And then people started to talk, how I was just beautiful and there was no substance. How I relied on my appearance for everything. No one gave me anymore chances after that. People assumed and were content with lies they made up in their head about me. Then I gave up trying to convince them otherwise, because it was easier that way. It was easier to play the role as a heartless monster, but then I believed myself that all I was good for was being beautiful. Spending countless hours primping myself to lead people on—I was talented at that. That was a skill I had. I was my own kind of self-destruction.

Then Royce came and he knocked down the walls I had. I didn't flee at the sign of ownership because I missed accompaniment and he seemed genuine and I was lonely, but look where that got me.

And then there was Emmett. By God, I loved Emmett. Whenever he was with me there were butterflies, and whenever he wasn't I was lonely again.

I couldn't deny how I really felt about him, how he was so different from all the people I knew.

"Rosalie, we're here," Edward said to me, and I hadn't noticed we stopped near a tree, close to rows of houses.

My mind was foggy and I looked at him and he looked sympathetic. He had probably been in my head, but for the first time, I didn't mind.

I spent forever pushing people away that I never gave anyone the chance to be let in. And Edward was actually worried about me—had been ever since Carlisle had changed me. He _talked_ to me and didn't fabricate what he said to me to try and claim me as his own. He told me the cold hard truth. We weren't just brother and sister… we were _friends_.

I looked at Edward and he was staring at the house, his brows furrowed. I knew that even though he wasn't looking at me that he had went inside my head. I didn't mind—at least, for now because of my sudden revelation. And I would keep that information of what I thought about in my head—I wasn't like Emmett and didn't need the world knowing.

Edward smiled and I tried not to think about it too much and tried not to fill his ego with any more ideas. Instead, I focused at the house we were staring at.

"What's this?" I asked. The house was small and white and there was a rocking chair at the front porch. A clothesline was handing in the backyard and I could hear distant voices inside accompanying the human food wafting through the air.

Edward turned to me. "It's where Emmett's been staying. It's his home."


	34. Chapter Thirty Three

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

His house was fairly big, but not bigger than mine—and if I recalled correctly, he had _a lot_ of siblings. Despite the number, all I could hear was murmuring. We stayed put, Edward and I, just watching the house. Well, it was more of me watching the house and Edward watching me.

A million things were running through my head all at once, and I wished I had a special power like Edward. Right now, seeing through inanimate objects seemed the most convenient.

"You saw your family—he should have a right to see his," Edward murmured from beside me, his eyes not leaving mine. He looked at me so closely yet so delicately at the same time, but it was unnerving—not at all.

I didn't even bother to ask how he knew. "But I didn't talk to them, and the one time I did they thought they were dreaming. What is his family going to think when he just disappears? I sure as hell know they don't think they're dreaming," I said rather calmly, my voice low and seething.

Edward didn't say anything after that—probably didn't know what to sigh. I sighed at the truth of it all, and of Emmett's idiocy. It was a late Saturday night, which probably explained why their house was oddly quiet. They were probably asleep, and Emmett was probably there with them feigning sleep. My lips curled into a sneer at the thought of him smiling while around his brothers and sisters and father and mother, temporarily in bliss at the thought of regaining prime human aspects of his life.

Edward stepped close to me, probably sensing the intense tenacity my body was giving out. I stood rooted to the ground, my brows furrowing as I glared at the house.

"How dare him," I spat out, twisting my head to now glare at Edward. "He can't… he can't just do that!" My voice broke and I knew there was more to this than my anger. It was longing. It was jealousy. It was envy. I couldn't bear to look at the house anymore and turned to walk away—to forget I ever came here, and to try and forget Emmett.

_Liar, liar. You can't forget him. Not now, not ever._

I closed my eyes tiredly, frowning and wanting to just fall to the floor. Look what he did, look where he had me—and he didn't even know. I was lost and tired—so, so tired.

"Wait," I heard Edward say surprisingly. I turned to him curiously and Edward shifted his head back and forth slowly, trying to concentrate on the house. He began shaking his head. "They don't know of Emmett. But that can't be true… Emmett's been in that house—I can smell him. He's in there right now." He stopped talking for another moment and his eyes looked away but his head was facing the house. "Emmett's there—he doesn't know we're here though," he whispered, "_they _don't know he's there."

Edward had been wrong? I didn't know whether to be relieved or not. I would be relieved he hadn't exposed himself, but at the same time, deep down, I kind of wished he did. Just so he could say goodbye to them properly—to see what he missed, what he had told me about before he had left me.

"Oh," I said breathlessly.

My brother still stood there; listening to everything he could try and hear swirling inside their heads. He murmured things to me once in a while—mostly what Emmett was thinking. I knew he meant no harm, but it hurt. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Let's go," I said quietly, impatiently. Before I even heard what Edward had to say I was already turned and walking away. I wasn't making a sound as I delicately walked away, and I could feel Edward close by. I didn't talk, didn't turn, and didn't think as I went back home, Edward in tow.

If I thought I was getting better, after Edward had brought me to Emmett's house it all just became worse. Everything I had built up around focusing on myself instead of him seemed like it had never happened. I went straight to my room and shut the door, sliding down it and putting my hands in my hair. The fact that he was so far away from me was unnerving. I didn't know if Carlisle or Esme was home, but when I heard Edward was talking, I knew someone us. He was silent as I heard him move and pick up the phone for a moment, and then hanging it up again. Their voices were low and I could only pick up a couple of words, but I didn't want to listen to them. I leaned back and tried to keep the hysterics at bay.

Edward knocked on my door a couple of times, but he was answered with nothing. I was ignoring him and I made sure he knew that. He tried once more, but after I didn't say a word, he stopped. Esme offered to go up but Edward had told her not to.

It wasn't until a couple hours later that I heard footsteps nearing before someone had sat down on the other side of the door. At first, I thought it was Edward and was about to tell him to go away, but the voice told me it was someone else.

"Rosalie?" Esme asked.

I sighed. "What?" She was quiet after that I curled my lips together and my eyes started to close as I felt myself breaking. "I miss him," I whined, hugging my knees against myself. "He thinks I compare him to Royce—and I did—but they aren't the same, and I think he thinks I think he is," I babbled, angry at myself for my mistake. "He's nothing like Royce—he cares and smiles and he laughs and he loved me."

"He still loves you, Rosalie."

"How do you know? You can't read minds."

"When he was here he was like a son, and it was so easy to read him. Even Carlisle could see it, and you know how he is when he sees his own children in love, but even he couldn't ignore it." She laughed a bit of the irony. "It was easy to see Emmett when he was around you. And even though he left I assure you the feelings are still there. They just can't be forgotten."

She gave me some time to mull over what she had said by leaving, and I let her go. I sighed tiredly and strolled to my bed and laid on it. For the rest of the night I thought of what Esme had said, and then Emmett. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep, and I knew if I were human I still wouldn't have.

My eyes were closed as I tried to sleep and the bright light of the sun rising from outside my window nearly blinded me when I woke up. I rubbed my eyes even though I wasn't tired and sat up on my bed. I stared at the door and sighed, wanting to get out. I was feeling claustrophobic in my room and needed to leave. Before I could open the door I heard Edward say, "We're going hunting."

"I'm not hungry," I lied.

"Okay then. Esme and I are going hunting."

"What about Carlisle?"

"He's working."

"Oh."

Edward then opened the door a crack and I didn't shut it back. Knowing that, he stuck his hand through, holding out a piece of paper. I didn't even ask him what it was—I just snatched it from his hand and leaned against the door as I read it, shutting the door unintentionally.

I looked over the number carefully before realizing what I could be possibly holding in my hands. "Where did you get this?" I asked demandingly, opening the door completely and staring at Edward as he smiled softly.

"Last night, he was reciting things to himself when we were there. He was reciting his address, his family, his siblings' names, his phone number…" I could only gape at him. "You should call him now. His family's at church while he stays there."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. But it wouldn't hurt to try, would it?" Then he lifted a hand and gave me a small wave, looping his fingers around his suspenders and he descended down the stairs and called Esme. Edward opened the door and stepped out and I could feel Esme lingering by the open door. I breathed out and came down, giving her a small smile she returned.

"I'm alive, don't worry," I said, hiding the paper behind me. She paid no attention to it and laughed.

"He loves you."

"I know. I was stupid to let him leave, wasn't I?" I said quite sadly.

"I was talking about Edward," she said, chuckling at my surprise. Then she turned and shut the door behind her, leaving me standing there in stunned silence. Great, soon the whole world would known I actually _liked_ Edward opposed to the loathing I had for him the first weeks I was here.

Shaking my head, I made my way to our mock untouched kitchen. The phone was on the table and I made my way to it, only staring at it once I got there. Deciding to just get it over with, I picked it up and carefully moved my finger as the dial turn rolled to each number I dialed.

When I was done I breathed and heard the ringing. One… two… three… four… five…

I almost hung up. Almost.

"Hello?" I heard someone say. I was dazed that I didn't really hear who it was.

There it was again. "Hello?" Emmett asked in his sweet, sweet voice.

And it was if the world had ceased all movement. It was if time had collapsed as I stood there frozen, my lips slightly parted and my eyes slightly open. The world was blurry and there was something lodged in my throat, preventing me from speaking.

All that came out was a silent strangled sob. I didn't want him to hear me like this. So I cried silently, my hand covering my mouth as I leaned against the wall for support. The emotions came out of nowhere, starting to consume me completely. After being so long without the sound of his voice, it made me weak.

"Hello?" he asked once again, slightly annoyed. "Rich, if this is you, I'm gonna—"

"No. It's Rosalie," I stumbled, my voice faint. I didn't want him to leave—not yet. I sobbed, trying to stay quiet. I didn't succeed.

"Rosalie? What—" he started, but I cut him off, my face contorting as I tried to keep my wailing at bay. The entire side of my body was against the wall, my legs about to give way.

"I'm sorry, please come back. I'm… I'm such a mess, I need you right now… I can't… I don't know what I'm doing…" My voice cracked halfway and I started to freak out. Soon I stopped making sense and I rambled on and on and on. The cool and unfazed figure I was when I was around my family diminished into nothing once I heard Emmett's voice. The present Rosalie was the opposite of everything I ever knew.

And it was a scary thought, but it was even scarier when I realized I was alone.

I tried to calm my breathing when I stopped talking, when I had run out of things to say and didn't want to look more like a fool than I was before. All I could hear was my own breathing and the other end was silent.

"Emmett…?" I called for him, but there was no one. I called his name again and was met with no response.

I dropped the phone and it fell to the floor, and soon my body fell with it. My hair was a mess and was tangled as it bunched up on my shoulders. I closed my eyes, feeling everything around me crumbling. He didn't want me. I was going on and on that he didn't even get the chance to tell me. He wanted nothing to do with me.

I couldn't take the deafening silence and kicked the phone so it would crash against the wall, but I missed and instead hit one of the legs of the table. I bit my bottom lip as my hair fell in front of my face and I cried that I almost didn't hear the knock on the door. We didn't get much—if at all—visitors and I didn't want to see anyone. But the knocking never did relent and I wondered if it was someone who wanted to see Carlisle.

Wiping my eyes, I took a deep breath and walked towards the front door. I hated that Emmett's scent still lingered in the house because I could smell him everywhere. He was everywhere. He had tainted this place and I couldn't smell any humans so I wondered who could possibly be at the door. Emmett's scent made even the most tempting humans impossible to smell.

I stared at the door and didn't bother putting a fake smile on my face. I opened the door and the door was only barely open that I didn't even get a chance to see the sun before someone came at me, my head going on top of their shoulders and their arms wrapping around me as mine lay on my sides. My eyes widened for a moment, but relaxed soon after. I didn't even have to wonder who it was.

"You sounded like you needed one, Rose," he said to me, whispering.

And I did.

So I nodded, unable to form words.

He was here, Emmett was here. I cried at the thought that he was here and wrapped my arms around him so he couldn't leave me again. I wouldn't let him go.

He was still as I cried and I told him, "You can't leave, Emmett, because if you do, I won't make it." My voice was a bit muffled as I spoke from his shoulder, tightening my hold around his waist.

"And how do I know you feel that way?" he asked, his mouth close to my neck. His voice was so soothing that I wanted to hit him for making me so dependant. I would run across the world to him if he asked for it.

But there he was, when I gave everything to him he just asked questions. He was always wondering, never accepting. I moaned as my hysterics threatened to take over me. "Sometimes I hate you," I said, as I tried to make venom lace every word. Instead, I was just being drained and tangled in his warm embrace. My voice cracked and I knew I didn't sound the least bit threatening.

"Do you, Rosalie?"

I hated my name on his lips, I hated his silence and his calmness, but I didn't hate him. So I shook my head slowly, caught in defeat.

"I wish I did, though." I found myself finishing, my body twisting from his hold. "I wish I could walk out and be happy never to see you again. But if you leave me again, I'll lose you." I held my breath for a moment before admitting something I thought I would never had admit, "I don't know what to do, Emmett, and I'm scared."

"Are you scared of me?" he asked; his voice low.

I shook my head, surprised that he even had to ask.

"Good," he answered. Then he pulled away a bit and held my face in his hands. He was smiling. He looked as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. Emmett began to continue, "Good, because out there," he nodded towards the direction behind them, "it's hell without you and I don't want to go through it alone." It was his turn for his voice to break and, almost out of instinct; my arms wrapped itself around him protectively.

"You're not invincible," I whispered incredulously, "just please don't leave me alone."

"I won't," he murmured, "I won't leave you, I promise…" The words he spoke were like sweet poison, killing me gently with every breath. I knew and from the way his hands were suddenly on the small of my back that he knew too. "Just promise me you'll never do what I did; just promise me you won't leave. It hurts, and I could only imagine what you felt."

"It sucked." I laughed humourlessly.

"I'm sorry, I just needed to think."

"And what did you think?"

"That I was stupid, that I missed you, that I needed you. Before you called, I was about to come back to you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

We were silent after that as we held each inside the house, beside the open door. Then, Emmett looked at me and asked, "Can I stay?"

I pursed my lips together. "If you care," I said, my voice hoarse.

His eyes moved to my lips. "Can I kiss you?"

"If you love me."

And no more words were exchanged as his lips met mine softly. His arms weren't around me anymore and my arms were around his neck. Then, he picked me up and my legs wrapped around his waist as our lips touched. He shut the door before moving to the living room and sitting on one of the couches while I was on his lap.

"I'm sorry for snapping, I'm sorry for not listening," he murmured against my lips.

"I'm sorry for… everything." And I rested my head on his shoulders, content with just laying there with him in silence.

"What are you thinking?" Emmett finally spoke, his voice rough.

I was hesitant, but it wasn't as if I was thinking of an answer. I was hesitant in what I wanted Emmett to know. I pressed my lips together, thinking it through, and he waited. He would always wait.

I laughed under my breath, looking down before I looked back up at him nervously, yet smiling at the same time. "Sometimes I can't really believe that you're real," I started, my voice startling me at how soft it was. "Some days, I'd think that the whole idea of you being with me was just a dream. It's so surreal and unreal; the perfection and the beauty to be with me." I took a deep breath, my voice starting to crack. "It hurt sometimes. The thought that one day you'd realize I was just an insignificant little girl and that you'd leave me. But I don't think I could ever live without you, now that I knew what it's like to be with you when you went away.

"And I'm sorry for ever, ever doubting you—for thinking you were ever like Royce because you aren't and I hope you'll believe me. You're the antithesis of him, and he… he just—it's so _hard_ and I couldn't just forget about him and I know I never talk about him and I know you don't know—"

"Hey," he said, lifting one of his hands and brushing his fingertips across my cheek and leaving them tangled in his hand. My eyes lifted to his and he used the other arm to bring me closer to him, softly pressing his lips onto mine. "It's alright, I get it. I thought about it when I was gone and I was being unfair, making you talk about it. When you're ready, okay?"

I nodded and gently pulled away, our foreheads touching. And I continued to speak, mumbling faintly. "Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine that this is just a dream, but it's not." Silence protruded from the air before I spoke again. "Does the thought of living forever scare you?"

His lips formed a straight line.

"Yes." His face saddened with anguish as he continued, "When will forever stop? How do we know when it ends? Will it even end? What if I never truly die? The pain you suffer knowing you'll be around when people wonder about the future—things you just want to escape from. Escape from the world and live the day like it was your last because you had no control over that outcome. Now that's impossible."

I was sad. He noticed.

"You aren't supposed to be sad." He spoke, half serious and half joking.

_It sounds so familiar_, I thought. I fell for everything he was saying. "I feel it though," I whispered sadly as reality set in. I felt the emotions like there was a thousand weights pulling down and drowning me. I felt the struggle of existence, wondering for the true purpose but never finding anything. I felt it all, choking me and opening wounds that were already healed. My eyes were full of alertness.

Ease flooded through me as my hands gripped his shirt, clinging desperately. He didn't mind. I needed to feel him there with me. My hold on Emmett tightened as he pressed his lips on my hair. He then pulled me up so my face was in level with his. "Rosalie…" He sighed calmly. I peered up and stared at his topaz eyes. He was holding both my hands now; they trembled from his cold touch. "What do you really want?" Emmett asked directly.

"I don't want to lose you," I said while shaking my head, "what do you really want?"

"I want to die first."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't live without you if you did."


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

I sat with Esme as she knitted, just watching her and thinking. She tried to teach me once and I got it, but after weeks of not doing it I hadn't remembered how to do it anymore and just gave up.

Carlisle and Edward had taken Emmett hunting, saying they needed to have a talk with him—something I rolled my eyes to, but at the same time secretly smiled to. They had left not more than five minutes ago, and five minutes later and I was already restless. Esme seemed content though—humming along as she knitted and a smile adorning her soft face.

I couldn't take it anymore and I didn't want to describe the entire room or else I would have gone crazy. So instead, I asked Esme without even looking at her, "Have _you_ talked to Emmett yet?"

She stopped knitting. I could hear it. "Why would I?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "What else is Carlisle and Edward doing? Besides, you seem to have the best opinion between those two. Carlisle's too formal… and _nice_. And Edward's an ass."

Esme let out a laugh. "He already knows whatever I had planned to tell him. And believe it or not, but I don't have the slightest idea what Carlisle and Edward could be talking about to Emmett."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, Esme."

"I'm completely serious, Rosalie," Esme said. "But tell me this: do you love him?" she asked me, so straightforwardly. I hadn't expected that to come out of her—most likely Edward, but not Esme. She regarded me subtly and I hesitated at first.

"Yeah," I said after consideration. Everything he has done for me… for us.

"And does he know?"

"I'm not sure."

Esme put down her knitting needles and paid attention to me and only to me. "Did you tell him about Roy—"

"Of course not," I interrupted. She didn't say anything and I sighed. "I just… what's the point? I mean, he came back, I'm happy, he's happy… there's like no reason to even talk about it," I said too forcefully, too happily to even be believable. There was a sad smile etched on my face as my voice became a pitch higher, and I knew that no matter how much I wanted to believe myself that the denial would still be there.

And she knew and besides Emmett, she could read me the best. So she asked me, "Are you happy with how it is right now? How it's going to be for years to come?"

I turned away and nodded my head, pursing my lips together. "Yes," I whispered.

No one spoke for a moment and I heard Esme take a deep breath. "I don't believe you, Rosalie." My head snapped towards her at her bluntness, but her expression didn't change. "Emmett may have come back, but it's inevitable that you're going to get scared and that you're going to unintentionally push him away because of Royce again. He doesn't know what Royce did, so he'll never understand why you're leaving and coming back."

"Then what do I do?"

"If you tell him, you're going to get two things: his trust, and his understanding. He'd understand when you need time alone, and he'd trust you even more when he knows that you trust him too, and I bet he'd wait forever for you because of that."

I thought about what she said and knew she was right. I smoothed the nonexistent wrinkled on my yellow dress. "When did you tell Carlisle?" I asked her, my eyes on my lap as I fingered the hem of my dress.

"When I realized I loved him."

My finger stopped moving and I bit my bottom lip. I closed my eyes and tucked my blonde tresses behind my ear. The world was suddenly spinning. "I've never told him," I said slowly and quietly, as if I were embarrassed. And in a way I was, but also because I was confiding in someone with one of my secrets that no one besides Emmett and I—and probably Edward—knew.

"You'll tell him when you're ready—" Esme began, but the front door slammed open before she could continue, so she just smiled at me when Emmett's voice screeched through the house.

Emmett was rambling about how he needed to get away from Edward and Carlisle, that when he flung through to the room he immediately latched onto me from the couch. He picked me up and held me tight, falling back down to the couch, but with me on his lap that time. His nose was in my hair and I let out an airy laugh.

"I don't know why he's being so dramatic," Edward said as he entered the room, pointedly looking at Emmett that made me smile.

"You threatened to cut off my—"

"Oh, Jesus," I said, covering my ears.

"—if I tried anything," Emmett finished, looking down at me.

I gave him a tight smile and glared at Edward and briefly at Carlisle, who put his hands up in defense. "Edward did most of the talking, Rosalie," Carlisle remarked, strolling to Esme and sitting on the armrest of the couch.

"Forget about it," Esme said softly, cutting through the pointed stares passing through the room.

"Yes, please," I said, not moving from my seat.

Emmett's eyes were on me for a moment before he strode over, sitting beside me. I didn't make a move, but I also didn't stiffen. I was relaxed and I knew Edward noticed—I knew he was in my head. I was so used to him being _there_ that I always watched my thoughts. The room was silent when Emmett had come over and it was only me who had noticed.

There was a long pause no one wanted to break. "What?" Emmett asked, looking vividly around the room. He looked at me. "They—well, Edward—told me—"

"Yeah, I don't really care," I said, mostly saying it to Edward instead of Emmett. I rested my hand on Emmett's, giving him a light squeeze to reassure him. I looked at Emmett and smiled. "Let's go," I told him and before he could respond him I came off my seat and dragged him outside. I was suffocating.

Before I could open my mouth Emmett was apologizing. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"Emmett—"

"No Rosalie, let me finish. Please," he started, and I didn't say anything, letting him continue. "I would have come back whether or not you called me, but knowing that you want me just as much as I want you… I just… I needed time to think, and I did. I care about you, I just missed my family, and I think that was where the problems started."

"It's okay, I'm okay, and you're okay." I lifted my eyes to meet his. "Okay?" Oh how I wanted to believe in the words. I didn't wait for him to finish and headed inside to an animated house that was awkward a couple of minutes ago.

When Esme saw us her eyes lit up. "Well," she started, "since we're all together, I think we should do something as a family. And Carlisle, you don't have to go to the hospital today?"

He shook his head and Esme stood up, lively among the washed out faces. "Oh!" Esme perked up, gasping. "Let's go to the cinema. I've been alive for forty years and have never been to the cinema. Let's go, Carlisle!" she exclaimed, grabbing at his hand and tugging him towards he garage. Her voice was nothing less than excited and lively, and she told us to come along.

I smiled at her and looked at Emmett, who was silently chuckling to himself. Without looking at Edward I followed Esme and Carlisle.

When we reached outside, Emmett and I separated from them, going into my car. I didn't say a word, just held onto Emmett's hand and brought him along. It was strange—being together as a _family_. The word family still wasn't a word I was used to using, especially around these _people_. But they were more than people because they weren't strangers to me anymore—I just didn't know the right words to describe them.

Emmett and I went to the Buick and I took the driver side—_naturally_. I ignored Emmett even after he insisted that he drive. There was a smirk on my lips and I rolled my eyes as he kept talking and talking and _talking_. I was following Edward's Bentley and tried to tune Emmett out, but he kept pressing on.

"Emmett, you're not touching my car," I said as I cast him a quick glance. He pouted like a child and I laughed, sputtering and almost drove off the road because I wasn't looking. "Stop doing that! We almost crashed!"

"We?" Emmett asked accusingly. "You're the one driving, darling—and you're not doing a very good job at that."

"At least I didn't crash a car that wasn't mine."

"Fine, fine, fine! Just keep bringing it up!"

"Gladly."

"Hmph," Emmett exclaimed, reclining back on the seat and tilting his head to look at the roof of the car. Unable to hide my smile, I reached out and held his hand, squeezing it. His eyes lifted onto mine and he grinned, and for a moment I was confused. His other hand then reached over and soon he was turned sideways. I gnawed my lower lip and he came close as I tried to keep driving—the corner of my eyes watching the road. I was okay, I told myself.

Then, without warning, he leaned close and captured my lips in his and for the first second of our kiss I felt acceleration come from deep within me. It was like he turned a switch and set off a spark because I pulled him in, but he didn't come too far close because the moment it started was the moment it ended.

_Crash!_

We lurched forward and broke apart, Emmett grabbing onto the back of the seat with one hand and grabbing me with the other to prevent me from flying forward. My eyes were wide and I realized I had stepped on the gas pedal the moment his lips came to contact with mine. The sound of the crash made a sickening crackle as the hard impact of the two vehicles collided, resulting in an echoing sound that seemed to last forever.

Still stunned, I turned to Emmett to find him grinning at me. It was hardly the expression I expected to see on his face. "I guess we're even now," he said to me, and I just stared at him, lost.

Realizing what he meant, I pushed him off me and leaned close to the forward of the car, finding that I had crashed into the back of Edward's Bentley. It wasn't that much, but it was enough to make me cry had it happened to me.

_Oh Lord._ It _had _happened to me. I could only imagine what the front of _my_ car looked like.

"Oh Jesus," I breathed out, my eyes still wide and my hair in disarray. I didn't know what to say. I breathed in heavily for a few seconds before turning and glaring right through Emmett that his grin had faltered completely. "What the _hell_ was that for?" I nearly screamed at him—enunciating every word.

"I, uh…" he started, but I opened the door and ignored him completely.

When I saw the front of my car I wished I hadn't—I really, really, _really_ wished I hadn't. Pure shock crashed through me, and the anger in my eyes turned to concern and incredible sadness. My red Buick that I restored completely by myself now had a broken headlight that looked like it would fall off any minute and a smashed headlight that hadn't survived at all. The bumper was dented and scratched and Edward's Bentley looked like it got the brute of the damage.

"What the hell, Rosalie?" Edward snarled, which was the antithesis of his usual calm and collective resolve.

Despite wanting to scare me, I was anything but scared of Edward. I was _angry_ and just as angry as Edward was at Emmett. At least, I should have been.

It was just a sight to see: Edward fuming mad for the first time since I had known him, and no matter how much I ruffled his feathers or got him pissed, he never acted upon it like he was now. And all it took was _Emmett_ a couple of weeks to change Edward's demeanor completely without even trying to.

So I laughed.

And I laughed.

And I laughed.

Edward's face soon adapted another emotion I had never really seen on his face: confusion. I was so into my own laughter that I barely heard the door of my Buick open and Emmett step out. It was when he was beside me that I turned to him and was giggling madly—Rosalie and giggling, never thought I'd see the day—before Emmett started to chuckle as well.

"Lighten up, Edward," I said, before turning and getting back into the car. I saw Esme and Carlisle peer warily behind them at a emotion ridden Edward and a smiling Emmett before smiling themselves. With Edward glaring at Emmett, all he did was shrug his shoulders and stroll back to the car, hopping in the passenger seat. Once he had closed the door it only took a second of silence before I burst into another fit of hysteria.

"If this makes you laugh… well then, you have some skewed up happiness Rosalie," Emmett remarked, and I shook my head, starting the car up again. Edward was still standing there and I yelled at him to hurry up and move out of the way. Reluctantly, he threw his arms up—a sign of giving up—and went back to his car. I drove past them and waved at Esme and Carlisle—who were sitting in the backseat—and continued to drive. I didn't need Edward to take the lead because I already knew where the cinema was.

The rest of the drive ended up in silence and Emmett didn't try to _distract_ me again, but what he didn't know was that if he were to try again I would let him. I just didn't voice it out.

We drove all the way to Pennsylvania again; to the drive-in that held so many memories, and so many fears. Emmett, like the gentleman he was, insisted that he paid, and when I looked behind me I saw Edward pay as well. We parked near each other, but not right beside each other. There were vacant spots between us but I knew it would be filled eventually. We were near the front, but not too close, and when I finally put the car to a stop I breathed out, resting back on my seat. Emmett slung an arm across my seat and I turned to him, quirking a brow.

"Next time, don't destroy _my_ car," I told him, looking at him pointedly. Emmett chuckled nervously and scratched his head, and I tried to hide a smile.

He caught it.

"You're smiling Rosalie, which means you're not actually angry, so!"

"So?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. So… you can't stay mad at me."

"Like I ever could," I said, rolling my eyes and leaning into his arm. From the distance I saw Edward, who was leaning back against the seat with Esme and Carlisle at the back, leaning in close. We stayed in the car and I kept a firm grip on Emmett to make sure he wasn't going to get out of control. We had parked off to the severe left to try and stay away from humans as much as possible.

When I looked at Edward, leaning back casually as if he hadn't a care in the world, he was smiling. His head was slightly turned but out of my complete view, but I saw a crooked smile on his face as humans walked by with concession stand food. A few people would glance his way, and another few would have lingering stares at him, whispering something that no doubt he could hear. It was if he were flirting with them all, not bothering to hide his eyes as he watched people bass by the front of his car, ignoring that his parents were right behind them.

Shaking my head I turned away and leaned back down on Emmett. Sometimes I wondered if he ever got lonely. I didn't know how long he had been a vampire, but he's been around Carlisle and Esme long enough, but was that enough to want what they had, what Emmett and I were getting? Was he ever lonely? Has he ever loved someone? Was he happy?

As the lights dimmed and the movie started, I tried to push away my thoughts and concentrate on Frances Deeas she played Virginia in _Finishing School_.

The movie was light and pure escapism of a whimsical life of falling in love, but the end made me nostalgic of my human life. I tried not to think about it too much and instead tightened my hold of Emmett's arm around me. He looked down at me briefly, but I dared not to look up and instead focused on the screen till the movie was over.

As the cars stat to roll out Emmett and I stay in place, as well as Edward, Esme, and Carlisle. Soon, almost every car had left the lot, so I drove up beside the Bentley. Edward started the car, but before he drove off he rolled down the window.

"We're headed back, but Esme assumes you both will probably doing something else that I don't really want to know about."

I turned to Emmett who just shrugged. Then I rolled down my window and said, "I don't know yet, maybe. We'll stick around for a while I guess."

Edward nodded and was about to roll up his window when he added in, "And to answer your question: Yes, yes, and yes." Before I could ask what he meant he had rolled up the window and was driving away, Esme and Carlisle in tow.

I thought about it for a moment and figured out what he was answering me to. Emmett turned to me questioningly, but I feigned confusion and shrugged my shoulders.

_Huh, Edward's quite a character._

Putting the car on park again, I rested my head on the seat. First there was Edward and his confusing personality, and now there was me and my nostalgia. I closed my eyes, my human memories flooding around me.

"Do you miss being human?" I asked Emmett.

"More than anything in the world," he said, and hesitated for a second, "but, I'll be fine. I got my angel, don't I?" he joked, and I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "What?" he asked.

"Stop with the… with the _sappiness!_ Stop with the sugar and the… and the love and angel and beautiful because none of it is even true! Stop lying to me," I started, getting frustrated.

"Rosalie, what are you talking about?"

"Be angry, hate me!"

"Why would I hate you?"

"Stop _doing _that! Stop being so… nice! Tell me you hate me for taking away your humanity, your mortality, and making Carlisle stop you from dying and making you this way. Tell me you hate me for being so moody and yelling and screaming and then doing a complete one-eighty not a second later. Say it! Tell me you hate me!" I began to yell at him. Why was he so rational, so calm and never somber? Why was he always _smiling_ that god damned smile I love and hated at the same time? Why did he make me yell and regret it not long after?

Emmett stayed silent, looking down at his hands before looking back at me, right at me. "You miss it bad, don't you? Being human? And I… I don't mind. Stop, Rosalie," he said as I opened my mouth. "I like challenges, I like taking things as they come, I don't mind. We only live once, but now I'm going to live forever. I won't have to worry about the world moving too fast because I'll be there with it. And you're here with me—even if you are moody and you yell and scream and do a complete one-eighty not a second later." He smiled.

"And you're… you're not okay, not yet. I don't know what you went through as a human, what you miss and what you couldn't wait to get away from. Something tells me it's more than what I went through. I miss being human, yes, but I've accepted that I'm not ever going to be one anymore. And you haven't, so don't lie to me and tell me you have because I know you, Rosalie. You gotta let it go. You'll smile, but I know you're still so miserable, I can tell. You have to just liberate yourself, you have to be _free_, Rosalie," he said the last part with such passion, such determination, that his voice snarled a bit at the end.

My eyes flickered away from his. "Why? You're not happy."

"Who says?"

"I do! Look at us right now, I'm angry, you're angry… we're always angry and fighting and you probably hate your life because of me!"

"I'm frustrated, but I don't hate my life, and never because of you, but I still have a lot to learn."

I almost laughed at him. "You don't need to let anything go, you say what you want all the time."

"I have to learn how to hold back. You have to learn how to let go. We need each other Rosalie."

Let go, let go, let go. Those words shouted at me from every direction, every day. I remembered what Esme had told me earlier about letting it go.

"Stop pretending to know me when you don't," I whispered harshly to him, my eyes latched onto his.

He did not stumble, I did not falter. "Then let me know you, tell me something! We're playing cat and mouse again—"

"Because that's what we do! Now do you understand? Hate me then, just walk away—you've done it before."

"I _can't_."

"Why not?"

"You do not know how much you yell at me, scream at me, and then change emotions just like that for no apparent reason. And maybe some masochistic part of me likes it because I take it and take it and take it and _laugh_. You make me laugh, but not in the way that people are used to seeing. The little things make you happy, like seeing Edward get all prissy to moody to someone just tripping and falling. You're different, you're strange, and you take control and then back out of it."

I stared at him, too shocked to say anything. And for the first time, someone had stunned me into complete and total silence.

"Of all the women I've met, you're the first one to act this way. I never know what comes next with you; you're such an unpredictable surprise. And I don't know if that's good or bad—you're seriously one of a kind. And I think I should hate you, but I _can't_, and I've never been with a woman long because they weren't you, and I hadn't even met you yet." He lowered his head, our lips not that far apart. His eyes were intense, but there was a sort of softness held inside of them. "Something tells me if I stick around long enough, it'll all be worth it. You're not just a challenge, you're more than that. You're Rosalie, and there's so much more to you than what is on the surface. When I'm frustrated and angry at you, sometimes I wonder if that's what I'm really feeling—or if it's something more."

The world around me was closing in before it turned completely black. "It's something more," I murmured, careful to move my lips so they didn't touch—not yet.

He chuckled. "I'm sure once I break through the surface things will get easier, but right now we're at the rough patch. Edward and Carlisle and Esme don't tell me anything about you, and I know there's something there. And I'm not going to force it out, I'm going to wait. We've already broke down one wall, right?" he asked, referring to him leaving.

I gulped, my eyes looking up at him.

"You can't shake me off, Rosalie. No matter how much you want to. I'm here for the long run."

"_Why?_" I asked, my voice breaking even though I had barely gotten a word in.

He sighed. "You've got to stop asking that. Don't you know? You _have_ to know. I love you Rosalie and I don't think I'll ever stop. Despite you're yelling and screaming… when you're happy you're different, and I know I make you happy. And I know you want to be happy, but you're holding back. You've got to let go."

At that point, all the cars from the drive-in were gone—our lone car at the middle of the cinema.

I turned away from him, starting the engine and driving out of the drive-in in silence. I breathed deeply, letting his words sink in. Sometimes he was too much. My hands were gripping the wheel tightly and Emmett was quiet, _for once_. My eyes were staring straight ahead and I avoided looking at him beside me.

I took him to the field where we had lain underneath the stars. They were out again tonight. I stopped the car in the middle of the road and took a deep breath. "Sometimes I hate you so much, so much for making me this way. Sometimes I want you to just go away and never come back." My eyes were fixed in front of me, not moving at all. "And sometimes, I don't. Sometimes I want you to stay and never ever leave.

"You will _never_ understand what happened. And I want to let go, but I _can't_." I stayed sitting before I opened the car door and stepped out, onto the grassy field. I sank to the floor and just laid there, my eyes transfixed on the stars. Not long after I heard him come through, just like I knew he would.

When he reached me he just stared down at me, blocking me from the stars.

My eyes lingered on his face, brightened by the moon and shadowed from the darkness. Never before had he looked so beautiful and delicate and completely vulnerable. His face was expressionless, but his eyes… they were waiting, hiding. My toes curled and my hair was splayed around me.

"I'll always be waiting, no matter what. Don't ever think otherwise," Emmett murmured, his voice rich and deep. And with one last fleeting look he turned around, and I watched him in stunned silence as he walked back to the car.

But before he could get in and shut the door and leave me there with the stars I loved, my fingers curled at the dirt beneath me and I said, staring right at his retreating form, "They raped me."

Emmett froze in place despite being so far away. His body didn't move and it was until several seconds later that he turned around and watched me as I stared right at him.

"Royce," I whispered, shifting my eyes to look at the sky. I heard his footsteps come closer.

"They?" he asked.

"His friends too. Carlisle found me when they were done."

There was a lingering silence for a long time before he decided to speak. I was awaiting his response.

"So I guess this is why you're always angry," he had finally said, and even though I should have been angry at what he had just said, what he had the audacity to utter, I wasn't. Why wasn't I?

So I smiled.

I hadn't expected that, not at all. Emmett was my rock. I guess it was relieving to have someone say something other than 'I'm sorry' for something they didn't experience or have a look of pity in their eyes. It was refreshing. And I knew he understood. Why had I been so worried? The way he said it so easily, yet cautiously. The way he still looked me in the eyes and knew exactly what to say without thinking…

Emmett McCarty really did know me after all.

* * *

I told him what he wanted to know and I didn't hold back because I didn't need to hold back. I told him of how I met Royce till my near death. I told him of my mother and father and Thomas and Nathaniel—incredible sadness washing over me as I talked about them. Emmett held my hand and listened.

We were laying side by side still in the field as I told him and the stars everything. Once I started I couldn't stop.

And when I was finally done, I turned my head to look at his profile.

"Rosalie," he started, turning to me as well, "I'll never understand what you went through, but know this: I still love you."

I smiled softly.

"Do the rest of them know about this?" Emmett asked, referring to the Cullen's.

I shook my head. "Not all of it. Edward probably does because he knows what I'm thinking though." I took a deep breath. "Royce took something from me I'll never get back, so many things… and then I met you and I'm… I'm _happy_. I'm happy that I let it go, or at least part of it. It'll always be there, but I know that I'll have you to be with me, right?" I said, the sweet saccharine words almost foreign on my tongue.

"Woman, do you even need to ask? What did I tell you? I _know_ you," he remarked, playing with my hair.

"Not all of me," I bit back. I turned away from him and back to the sky. His hand reached out and lay atop of mine. He knew so much about me now, more than anyone I had ever known. And yet, I couldn't tell him that I loved him, not yet. Not that I didn't want to, because dear God I so wanted to, but because I _couldn't_.

I shifted against the grass and said, "Sometimes I wish _you_ could read my mind, because I'm so scared to tell you what I'm thinking."

"I love you too."


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

Everything was easier, or at least, as easy as they could be. It had been a month since I told him, the summer heat on full swing, though we couldn't even feel it. We spent a lot of time outdoors after that, Emmett's resistance against human blood getting stronger till he could be in a room with them and didn't feel a thing.

That rough patch Emmett said we had, I felt like we were sailing through it at that very moment. Things were better, happier, and livelier. And now we were sitting in _my_—it will probably never be _our_—Buick as I drove through Virginia, going anywhere and everywhere. We had been through many states surrounding Virginia, but never actually _in_ Virginia. So we hopped in the Buick and drove through town after town, just passing a sign that told us that we had just entered Charlottesville.

"I think we should get out of here for a while, you know?"

"Like what we're doing now?" I asked him, not quite getting what he was saying.

"No, I mean, time to ourselves. A couple of days, or weeks, or months…" he turned to me suggestively and I scoffed, but laughed nonetheless.

"And what made you think of that?" I asked, my hands still leisurely on the wheel.

Emmett leaned his head out of the window with one arm out so his hand held the roof and said, "I just, I don't know. We need to get away from here. I don't know, let's go to LA or let's go camping or just… away from them for a while."

I laughed. "Maybe. So why are we here again?" I asked Emmett, driving steadily through the streets.

"We need spice in our life."

"You're making us sound like an old married couple. I mean, spending our day in Virginia? What the hell's in Virginia? Nothing," I scoffed, sounding irritated.

But it was after that seemingly endless long stretch of road that I was suddenly awe-stricken. Brick upon brick upon brick, surrounded by trees which let a few rays of sunlight through, was a building with a few humans milling about. The car slowed as I stared at it, passing by a statue in front of a concrete staircase, leading past columns and to the doors.

I hadn't realized that I had stopped the car completely.

"Beautiful, ain't it?"

"Wow," I said breathlessly, my eyes inspecting every detail. "What is this place?"

"It's a school," Emmett said lightly, almost laughing.

I shot him a glare and he immediately shut up. Then, sadly, I stared at him and asked, "Weren't you in university before… all this?"

Emmett just stared at me, as if taking in my expression, and nodded, the laughter in his eyes never faltering. He looked solemn and contemplative, but I only saw a glimpse of that. He was much better at covering things up than I had originally thought. "Nah, I was taking a break after I graduated high school. But even then, I don't think school was for me. I had no idea what to do. I'm actually glad I'm outta there and stuck like this. It gives me time to decide what I really want to do. I mean, if Carlisle can become a doctor, so can I, right?"

The image of Emmett being a doctor didn't sit too well in my stomach, and my face must have said all that because Emmett started to bark with laughter.

"Okay, maybe not a doctor, but a _normal_ human job. I don't know—I don't want to forget and just live alone for the rest of my life. I consider myself a people person."

My eyebrows rose up as I tried to digest what he said. "I see," I murmured, turning away from him and looking back at the building. "Any idea what _you_ would like to study?"

"I have a feeling we had this conversation before." _And we did_. He shrugged his shoulders. "No clue, just that I like to play sports, but I guess I can't really study playing sports. Maybe sports medicine or the such, but… _nah_."

I chuckled at his bluntness.

"Now you, you have more hope, Rosalie. Music, engineering"—he knocked on the dashboard of the car—"math, the list goes on and on for you."

I pursed my lips. "You know, I thought a lot about what you said that day, about going to college, I mean. And… I'd like to really go someday. Just to see what it's like." I was staring right into him now, seriousness etched on my face. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant. "Open up doors, see the possibilities, even if we are… like this. You sounded so _passionate_ about it, even though you didn't really want to go anymore. I don't know, the way you talked about it, it made me want to be there, just to know." I turned away sharply, flustered. If I could blush I knew my face would be completely heated.

When Emmett didn't say anything I shifted my eyes to see him, but didn't move my head. My lips were pressed tightly together and I saw the smile on Emmett's face.

"Well, hell Rosalie! I think this means a celebration! Who knew I could sway your mind! I'm sure Carlisle will know what to do if we ask him, instead of staying cooped up at home all the time."

I looked down, trying to hide my smiling with my blond hair. I looked at my hands before turning back at him, scrunching my nose and twisting my mouth. "Was this a ploy to get me to go to school?" When he didn't answer I gasped, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "It so was! I can't believe you Emmett!" Trying to be serious and angry, I put the car in reverse and started to drive back home. But the thin line of my mouth didn't last long before I started to smile. He caught it.

"Who's the best? I'm the best!" Emmett rejoiced without giving me a chance to answer. I rolled my eyes. "What? No sightseeing?"

I annoyingly turned my head ever so slightly to him, but still enough to see the road, and scoffed. I didn't say anything, just turned back to the road, trying to feign lividness.

"You can't stay mad at me, Rosalie," Emmett murmured, his hand on my shoulder as he leaned close to me. I felt his breath on my neck as his fingertips traced patterns on my now burning skin. I knew that if he kept that up I would end up driving into a ditch, but he didn't relent.

"Emmett…" I started.

"Yes?" he asked, his lips very close to my skin. "Ow!" he exclaimed, just as I kicked on his shin. Emmett backed up and a smiled triumphantly, a smirk on my face.

* * *

We got back home late at night, the stars out and at it's paramount. When I finally parked the car in the driveway I sighed, leaning back against the seat and blowing the tendrils of hair that had fallen in front of my face. I heard Emmett stretch beside me and I turned my head idly towards him.

I watched as he flexed his arms, his muscles clearly visible. He twisted his neck as if he were stiff and he had big hands. I always liked hands. His were marred yet soft looking, his hands probably having the ability to trap mine within his. I watched, in awe, at how enthralling he looked without even trying. It was when he caught me looking that I turned away sharply, preparing to leave the vicinity of the car.

"Like what you see?" Emmett asked, halting me in my tracks. "Because you know, we're all alone, in the car…" he said lightly, the grin not wavering from his face, his eyes sparkling an even brighter topaz than what I was used to seeing. It was like honey melting and I pressed my lips together. Instead of snapping at him, I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah right, as if you could make me want you right this minute."

"I got you to drive all the way to Charlottesville, didn't I?"

I glared at him. "Sometimes I can't believe you, Emmett. We drive across Virginia just so you can take me to the university, really? I mean, how did I not fall for that? A day wasted, that's what it was."

"Hey! It wasn't wasted. You want to go to school now, right? See? I'm very convincing, and I think I can convince you with other things too." His voice was soft and caring and brought me at so much peace, but I couldn't let him win—he already got me earlier today. I had to one-up him.

"You're sick," I said, looking straight at him with disgust. "You're stupid and say so many stupid things without thinking."

"Rose…" Emmett started cautiously, his smile slowly vanishing from his pale face.

"No, Emmett. Let me finish. You're always around, always in my personal space, and always laughing. You're always so happy and you don't care if I'm angry—like right now! Sometimes you care too much, sometimes you love too much. And…" I took a deep breath, slamming the car door back shut.

I watched him carefully, my eyes following his every move. "Maybe, possibly, I still want you." The last part came out as a whisper, as if I didn't want the trees outside to hear us, and without warning lunged at Emmett and kissed his lips lightly, my body on his, our closeness not completely setting into reality.

I smirked down at his surprised expression and patted the side of his face with my hand. Before he could react I hopped out of the car and when I was a few steps away turned, looking at him, still in shock. I laughed a hearty laugh and beckoned with my finger for him to come outside. I expected him to walk slow, like a human, but instead he rushed out and before I could blink he was on me as we lay on the ground.

"That was so cruel, Rosalie," Emmett said, his breath how against my skin. His nose was nearly touching mine and I gripped his shirt with my hand. He rolled off me a bit, but he was still on top of me.

I laughed at the hurt expression he tried to display on his face and pushed him off me, but I knew he also got off of me voluntarily. I wasn't that strong. Instead of getting up, Emmett was lying across the grass, his hands behind his head, his eyes trained on the sky.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my elbow propped on the ground and my hand supporting my head.

Emmett smiled. "Trying to impress you. You're such a mystery."

"Even after our talk?"

He looked stunned for a moment but quickly recomposed himself. He shifted his eyes towards me and said, "Yeah. Even after our talk."

I knew it was a touchy subject with him. I sighed. "Look, it happened, okay. I don't want things to be awkward between us. I'm still Rosalie and you're still Emmett. I mean, we've come this far, haven't we? I don't want to lose you just because of my mistake."

Emmett shook his head. "You're wrong, Rosalie. It wasn't your fault. I wish I could kill him, but it looked like you had the honour of doing that. And you're worried about me? Hell, I should be worried about you! You don't know how strong you are, coming to me, trusting me… wow. I'm amazed. You're a strong girl, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise—not even yourself." His eyes were right on mine and I believed every word he said. He sounded so right, his voice was soft, but strong. If he ever talked to me like that I would believe everything he said, everything that came out of his mouth.

Slowly, Emmett's hand came up and started to play with a loose piece of my hair. His fingertips twirled it around delicately, but his eyes were still piercing through mine.

"I should be the one afraid to lose you."

"Don't be, I'm here. Forever."

Emmett chuckled and looked away from me and I sat comfortably as well, mimicking his pose.

"Beautiful, aren't they? The stars, outer space… it's like there's another world out there no one knows about."

"You love the stars, don't you?"

"I guess I do."

I smiled at him and looked back out into the sky as we lay only a couple of feet from the house. I watched the stars, trying to find something. I made Edward help me that one night, trying to find it. The stars were so bright and the moon hid itself, as if it were afraid to outshine the stars.

"That's Orion!" I exclaimed, smiling wide as I found it—at least hoped so. I saw the three stars that made the belt and I pointed at it, even though to anyone it would look like I was just pointing to the night sky.

Emmett nodded, a deep chuckle rumbling at my expression, but even then it did not drop. His eyes followed my pointed finger before lightly grabbing my wrist and repositioning it somewhere else.

"And over there," he started to say, watching me, "is Hydra, one of the largest constellations."

I followed where he had me pointing and I didn't see it, but it didn't matter. I just leaned closer to him, resting my head on his shoulders as he started to tell me a story about the stars.

When he was done and my eyes were hardly focusing on the stars, Emmett caught me by surprised. "Rosalie, I'm sorry," Emmett said so suddenly.

I jolted awake and looked at him. I raised a brow, regarding him carefully. "For what?" I finally asked when I couldn't figure out what he could possibly be sorry for.

Emmett sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I just… I'm sorry."

"Where is this coming from? Why are you telling me this?"

"We're starting with a clean slate, aren't we? You were telling me something. I just needed to get this off my chest. I'm sorry. I scared you didn't I? I really didn't mean to, I just needed to think."

I didn't say anything and instead watched him as he sat still. My hand made the way to his arm, stroking it. My eyes were on his and his on mine, our eyes meshing together like hot liquid. "I know. We were both just having some conflicting emotions, that's all."

"What's the opposite of fear?"

I paused with a puzzled look on his face. "I guess that would be calm. I wouldn't really know—I'm probably a bad person to ask."

He studied my face for a while before asking, "Do you have any fears?"

"Yes."

"Like?"

"Water."

"Water?"

"Large bodies of water. I don't like them." I turned away from him. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of losing you."

I turned swiftly, eyeing him and trying to register his words. "Have you always been a romantic?" I inquired, my voice almost deadpanned in response to his humour.

The man before me smiled softly and snickered. "Women like the sensitive guy, don't they? Besides, it's all behind closed doors—can't tarnish my rep. Only you will ever see me like this, Rosalie."

"Maybe Edward too," I said, reminding him of the fact that Edward could read minds whenever and wherever he wanted to.

But all Emmett did was shake his head, convinced himself. "Nah, ever since that one time I thought about you he has been steering clear of my mind." The way he said it was so casual yet so confident and humourlessly, like he was hiding something. I tried to figure out what he was saying.

When I did I pushed him away from me. "You're disgusting," I spat out, looking at him in near horror.

"Hey, I think a man is entitled to a few fantasies every day. It's like, in the rules." I turned away from him, getting up from the grass. I was walking back to the house when I heard Emmett say to me, "I'm just saying, if you knew what I thought of you wouldn't be turning away."

"I don't want to hear it." I covered my ears with my hands, but it was when I opened the door and let go from covering one of my ears that I heard Emmett.

"I agree. It'd take at least a couple of hours to get through what I've been thinking since I saw you."

"Dear Lord, why am I alone with this crazy boy?" I turned towards him, my face frazzled and flustered. I was staring at the sky in a vain attempt to hear from God himself.

"Because you love me," he said all too tauntingly, getting up and coming towards me as well.

I scoffed and we both strode into the house. I didn't say anything in return; I just crossed my arms in front of me and tried to push everything behind me. When we entered the house I saw that the lights were on. We spotted Carlisle, Esme, and Edward in the living room, the radio on low and static reverberating through the walls of the house.

"We're back!" Emmett announced, striding into the room like he owned the place.

"How was your trip?" Esme asked.

"Great."

"Horrible."

We had said the words at the same time and ignoring Emmett, I sat beside Esme. "He took me to Charlottesville just to show me the University of Virginia. Then he made me drive all the way across the state back here after spending like fifteen minutes there!" I whined, nestling back against the couch and closing my eyes.

I felt the couch dip beside me and I opened my eyes slightly, glaring at Emmett, but not as harshly. He ignored me. Or he didn't notice—I didn't know.

"I don't know why you're so upset, Rosalie. You said you'd like to go to school. And who convinced her?"

"You want to go to school?" all three of them asked me: Esme was hopeful, Carlisle was surprised, and Edward was in disbelief.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Yeah," I murmured, scowling at Emmett. "I think I'd like to still be in high school though, it felt incomplete when I left." I pushed my hair behind my ear, clearing my throat and sitting straight on the couch. Everyone was silent around me and I let my eyes drift towards Edward.

He met my eyes and I raised my brows at him, urging him to say something, _anything_. He didn't have to read my mind to know.

"I think I'd like to go back too. I haven't been there for two centuries. I wonder what has changed. Emmett?"

Emmett brightened. "Of course. I go where Rose goes." I heard Edward chuckle lightly at Emmett's sappiness. I think underneath all that muscle was a teddy bear. How ironic he almost got killed my one. Edward's chuckle deepened and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"I can do that," Carlisle said, adjusting the volume on the radio, "except we'd have to move out of here. We've been here long enough for people to recognize us. We could move at the end of August. Esme?"

Esme smiled softly, looking at Carlisle. "What Emmett said: I go where you go."

My eyes found Edward's again and he raised a brow at me and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

_Shut up Edward_.

He smiled at that but pressed on.

I sighed internally and gave him a look of annoyance.

_I like him, okay? Now stop acting like a… like a jealous boyfriend._

I saw the look in his eyes, something that went along like 'Sweetheart, I don't like you like that at all'. He must have heard me because he smiled, trying to contain his laughter.

I brushed my hand through my hair and turned to Emmett, resting my elbows on my knees and having my hand support my head.

"Emmett…" I trailed off, but when he stared at me complete clueless I added, "…about us?" My voice was meek, just a quiet whisper as I looked at him expectantly.

"I should tell them I kind of love you?" Emmett asked, oblivious to what he had just said out loud. I smacked my forehead in the palm of my hand as silence surrounded us.

"Not as vocal as that, but I guess that works." I didn't know _why_ I wanted to tell them, but a part of me did. Edward knew, and I bet he knew before even I did. Esme was perceptive yet quiet, and I think Carlisle had a hunch all along—especially after we had talked in the garage. I think they knew more than they let on. My eyes went to the rest of my family and they all had an expression of them already knowing, as I they were waiting for _me_ to admit it. And I guess I did, in a way—even if Emmett was the one to say it.

I felt embarrassed at that moment, but that couldn't be right because I was _never_ embarrassed. I covered my eyes and tried to change the subjects. "So… Emmett wants to go camping!" I exclaimed, and it was only after I said it that I realized how stupid it sounded.

Emmett lit up beside me and put an arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. "Yeah, we could leave tonight, come back in a couple of days, since we just admitted to being crazy for each other, that's all," he said nonchalantly and at that moment I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. Their eyes were on me, probably aghast at the way I was acting—the way I _never_ acted. I couldn't even recognize myself anymore.

"We could just have a bit to ourselves before we go to school, that's all. What is it now? July? August? I don't remember."

"August," Carlisle reminded him, laughter evident in his voice. I glared his way and he ignored it. He was too good at that. Just like the rest of them. Traitor.

"I have no problems with that. You two really need to stop staying cooped up in here," Esme said.

Edward nodded his head. "I agree. I come back from hunting and you know what I hear?—"

"Okay, let's pack Emmett!" I exclaimed, shooting up from the couch, not wanting to hear a thing whatever it was that Edward wanted to say. I practically pulled Emmett from the couch and went to my room, wanting to escape them as much as possible.

When we got to the confines of my room Emmett burst out laughing. "You should have seen your face; I haven't seen anything quite like it. You're always so calm and angry… and you were so embarrassed!" Emmett said between laughter, but I didn't catch everything, his girly giggles getting in the way.

"Oh, shut up," I said, opening my closet, but as soon as it opened Emmett shut it.

"Aw, it's okay," he started, petting my hair reassuringly. I pushed his hand off and he made no move to put it back. "Look, if that was what it took to actually have you _agree_ to go camping… well hey, it worked."

"You tricked me?"

"Second time today."

I groaned, no words forming that I could spit out to him. He sounded so sure, so confident in himself. "Sometimes I hate you so much. But you're lucky that feeling has long simmered down into annoyance whenever I'm angry at you. You're lucky you're actually likeable."

"Oh Rosalie, you know how to touch a man's heart."

"I don't even like camping," I said, ignoring Emmett's comment. I plopped down on my bed I never used and didn't bother to get up. "I'll stay here. You go with them."

"With them? Rose, this was a trip for you and me. If I wanted to be with them I'd stay here."

I looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was fibbing or not. "Aw, how sweet," I said too sweetly for me to be sincere. Emmett knew and plopped down next to me, our shoulders touching.

He laughed. "See, I know how to win a girl's heart. Besides, do you really want to stay cooped up here, or spend some time with me?"

"That depends. What does spending some time with you entail?"

"Fun!"

"You should be a politician, you sure know how to sway people," I muttered sarcastically, screaming when Emmett rolled on top of me, his mouth dangerously close to mine. I was surprised and he was smiling.

"Come on, let's go. We don't need to pack, just the clothes on our back. You're with a master camper, and being vampires and all, it should be easier than those mere mortals," he said, pointing his thumb outside to know one in particular. His breath was warm and inviting against my face and he was so damn convincing. Even if he didn't use persuasive language, there was something about him I could not resist. But he didn't have to know that.

"Fine. Since you're so adamant about it."

Emmett grinned and hopped off, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door. He practically dragged me outside, barely saying bye to Edward, Carlisle, and Esme. He was so excited that I didn't bother to pull away, but when he rushed past the car I halted in my tracks.

"What about the car?" Emmett rolled his eyes dramatically and I had a feeling he was mocking me. "Okay, okay, no car. No need to get all prissy."

"Yes…" Emmett said slowly. "Besides what's faster than even the fastest sports car?" He grinned and pointed at himself. "Besides, I want to take you somewhere I planned to go when I was human. They weren't done building the place, but they are now."

I was intrigues and I had no idea what he was talking about. "Where's that? What is it?"

"It's a surprise. Now come on," he said, bending over and motioning for me to hop on his back. I raised my brows and he said, "I know you're fast and could probably outrun me—okay, probably not—but let me do something for you, Rosalie. You know you can depend on me, even if you don't want to."

And he was right. I wanted to trust him. I _did_ trust him. He had no idea how much he could bring me down just to bring me back up without even realizing it. I didn't think he knew just how much he meant to me.

Almost reluctantly, but finally giving in, I walked to him and jumped on his back. I took a couple of minutes adjusting my position before Emmett ran, speeding through the forests that seemed to go on forever despite his speed. He was fast, I had to give him that much. I watched the world pass by, the trees moving with us and the night like a velvet blanket, sweeping through the sky.

I was sure at one point we were out of Virginia, but I wasn't sure. I didn't keep track of time, but then again I never did, and just let Emmett take us wherever we were going. He seemed to know where he was going and if he didn't, I didn't know. I didn't know what time we had left the house, but I saw the sun slowly rising in the distance, past all the trees. The sky was a tarnished gold and pink and orange, and even through the quick run I witnessed it all. It was early out now; the stars were hidden, turned away from the morning sunrise.

When he finally stopped he got me to climb off of him. I stretched, looking around me and past the expanse of trees. Then I looked at him.

He smiled at me, a small smile, then he pointed to a sign. I peered closely at it. "Great Smoky Mountains National Park? I never heard of it."

"Well, it was established in June 1934. But we can't go in yet, it's not open. It's early out, actually. Well, we could go in, but I wanted to show you something past it. When I was in Gatlinburg, I couldn't wait for this place to open. My brother and I were going to come here, but then… things happened. But you know what? I get to spend it with you, so that's a great alternative."

He sounded so happy, so whimsical, and so hopeful, that I couldn't bear to tell him I didn't want to be there, but then again, I _did_ want to be there—with him. I smiled back at him and held his hand, letting him lead the way.

It was easy to get through despite the place being closed, and it was kind of romantic, being by ourselves. Emmett pointed to the trees that all looked the same and the flowers and plants and told me about them. He was passionate about the outdoors and about the night sky. I listened, trying to absorb everything he was saying, but only a few things stuck.

We finally got to one of the trails Emmett said was called The Alum Cave Trail. He didn't want us to run, he told me, and he wanted us to hike so we could take everything in.

And I was breathless. I had never been so fascinated before, but I think it was also because Emmett was with me. I told him I had never been to a park before and had not seen much beyond the city. He was surprised, but then he reassured me this wouldn't be the only park he'd take me to.

I asked him questions and he gave me answers, and I stared at him in awe as he reveled in what he was talking about. I didn't let go of his hand the entire time, but I did use my other hand to fix my hair whenever I felt it falling flat, or when I thought a bug had gotten into it.

"Some things never change," Emmett remarked as I swatted a few bugs away. I turned to him and wondered what he meant. "But that's not a bad thing, I like you regardless," he finished, pulling me as we reached the one place he must've wanted me to see.

When we reached the top Emmett said to me, "We're at the summit of Mount Le Conte, look at that." And I stared at the high scenery and was blown away.

"Wow," I said, but before I could take it all completely in Emmett led me somewhere else. We picked up the past, almost swiftly running to our next stop.

We ended up at the Chimney Tops and he practically pulled me to one of the mountain peaks. Worn down and tired, but not complaining—just inside my head—he held me and pointed to the sky. I watched as the sun was slowly rising. He wanted me to see the sunrise.

"I needed you to hurry up so we could see this. Beautiful, ain't it?"

"It is," I said, and at that moment I wished I were a painter so I could capture the moment. We were greatly elevated from the ground we came from and Emmett wrapped his arms around me, his head resting on top of mine.

"Someday I'm going to have to show you the city."

"I'll be waiting for that day to arrive."

When the sun was fully above us Emmett escorted me down the rocks, making sure none of the rocks were loose so I could slip. I smiled at the thought and held his hand as he brought me down. He walked more slowly now, and Emmett led the way.

Soon we were at what he said were the Laurel Falls Trail and I watched as the waterfall streamed down the worn out rocks into the bank below.

"It's beautiful… but there's so much bugs and dirt," I remarked.

Emmett laughed and said something about him liking me either way, even if I had to give some things a chance.


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

I watched as Emmett looked at the waterfall animatedly, as if challenging it.

"Emmett, what are you doing…?" I asked as I watched him stalk forward.

He turned towards me and grinned. "Not what you think." Then he proceeded to take off his shirt—I was serious. He stripped down to only his underwear and jumped into the water below and I almost screamed. Instead, I gasped loudly.

I rushed over to him and saw him laughing as his hair was matted against his face. "What did you just do?" I screeched at him, getting on my knees and looking at him. I was appalled—the lake was dirty and gross and completely unsanitary.

"Obviously, I jumped in the water. Now come on Rosalie, live a little!" Emmett said, trying to coax me in. Luckily, I wasn't going to have anything of that.

"I'm not getting in! There could be… diseases in there!" I exclaimed, even motioning it with my hands. I huffed and leaned back on my heels, watching as he splashed around like a baby in a basin.

He laughed out loudly, going as far as even throwing his head back. "Diseases? Really, Rosalie? Come on, get in!" He laughed again, splashing the water. I blocked my face and hair from the water, not wanting it to get dirty. When he didn't relent I backed away, crossing my arms in front of me and keeping my dress intact, still full of grass stains Emmett hadn't let me change from.

Even through his laughter I started to yell at him, trying to overpower the loudness of the waterfall. "No! Do you know what a fool you're making of yourself?" I pushed my blond hair over one shoulder and turned to my side, watching the trail.

"No one's out there Rose, the park's not even open yet."

"I'm not worried about that. Do you know how you're acting right now?" I was in complete shock. Never in my life as a New Yorker had such a person existed like Emmett. All the men were prim and proper, with tailored suits and fedoras and briefcases with their woman adorned to their arm or their buddies close by. They all had cigars or canes alongside them, money in their back pocket ready to show off with. They had carriages and when cars came about, the most expensive cars they could get their hands on. They would _never_ in their life just hop into a bank of water.

Emmett interrupted my thoughts. "Rose, I'm pretty sure the animals don't care, and if they did I'd just eat them." He started to laugh at his own joke, one I didn't find funny. I frowned at him and he instantly stopped laughing. "Okay, okay… I know you don't want to get in and ruin your pretty clothes. So just take them off, put 'em near mine, and get in the damn water!"

I stomped my foot. Clearly, he did not understand. He openly mocked me, causing the water to splash around even more. He came close and I backed away.

He sighed. "What's it with you and water—oh." He looked down; trying to hide the smirk I caught.

"What?" I asked, curious all of a sudden.

His grin finally broke out. "You're scared."

"I am not!"

"…'large bodies of water. I don't like them.' Remember Rose?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You're not afraid of getting dirty, you're afraid of—"

"Okay! You're right!" I huffed, throwing my arms in the air.

"I always knew you were a dirty girl anyways," he said, floating on his back in the water.

I stood watching him float around aimlessly, the dirty water no doubt getting in his hair. Finally, he stood up again, his eyes laughing even more than his mouth.

"You get in this water, or I'll carry you in myself. And then you'll go home in wet clothes while I'm dry," he said, trying to sound threatening. Emmett and threatening never really matched.

When I didn't budge he came closer and I went around the water, to his clothes. I picked them up and held them over the water.

"You come any closer and I'll put them in," I warned, my mouth slightly parted as I watched his every move.

"You wouldn't." He looked dead serious, absolutely mortified. I didn't know whether he was joking or not, but I couldn't help but grin.

"You want to bet?" I smiled innocently.

It was almost like lightening. Emmett ran to me, water flying everywhere. Out of sheer shock I ended up dropping his clothes, screaming and laughing at the same time while backing away. Emmett had come out of the water and tackled me to the grass, getting me wet and dirty as well.

"What'd you do to my clothes?"

I pointed behind him. He turned his head for a moment before looking back at me. His shirt managed to fall onto the grass, but his pants were another story.

"You made a big mistake, sweetie." He smirked and kicked off my shoes.

My smile instantly vanished and all traces of laughter were gone. "You wouldn't dare—!" I yelled the last part as I felt myself swept off the ground.

"You're all wet and you're already dirty, wouldn't matter anyways," he said, and before I could protest he slid into the water with me in his arms. I descended into the water with him for only a moment before resurfacing.

"What the hell, Emmett!" I yelled at him, holding onto his shoulders. I swear I swore more than my entire lifetime than the short span of time I spent with Emmett. I glared at him and he was smiling. My legs were wrapped around his torso and his hands were on my—

"Get your hands off of me!"

"Are you sure about that?" he said, his hands slipping.

"No!" I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You stupid fool, you wrecked my hair," I muttered, drenched in dirty water that undoubtedly ruined my hair.

"Still scared of water?"

I couldn't help but laugh at him. "No."

"Mission accomplished!" He hollered, one arm going in the air. His grip on me loosened and I almost slid all the way into the water. "Oops. Sorry Rose."

"I bet you are."

"Aw, let me make that up to you," he said and scooped me back up, pressing his lips onto mine.

"You're lucky you're so damn good looking," I murmured into his lips.

He carried me across the water as we kissed, his hand going through my now wet hair. There was an array of colours in the sky or birds chirping or the world around us exploding, it was just a kiss accompanied with the soothing sounds of running water splashing closely around us. His touch was warm despite the coldness around us and he made the August air even hotter than what I thought possible.

My hands found my way around his neck and snaked through his curly hair. Our bodies were pressed tightly as my legs were wrapped around his waist and I didn't want to let him go. He was barely wearing any clothes and I was fully clothes, but I could still feel him as if we were flesh on flesh.

Eventually and without warning, he dipped into the water, bringing me with him. Our eyes were still closed and I felt us settling deep underneath the water, my hair flying up as the blond tresses meshed with the pale blue and the almost crystal clear water. My legs came off from around him and my hands found their way to his face, holding it.

I opened my eyes and his were barely opened, but widened as he came into eye contact with mine. I smiled into his mouth and Emmett jumped from the bottom of the water, bringing us back up to the surface.

Our lips fell apart when we broke through and I was so wet and he was so wet. He moved the hair that had fallen over my face and kissed me lightly on the lips. I pulled back and our noses touched and I put my fingers on my now swollen lips. I felt as if I was burning and I took him with me.

He pulled me close as if he were hugging me and went back to shore, putting me out of the water while he stayed inside. I smiled down at him, pushing his hair away from his face, my dress clinging onto me tightly.

"Now that was fun," Emmett remarked.

"I'll have to agree," I drawled lazily, wrapping my legs around his shoulders and pulling him close. His head was at my neck and he placed light feathered kisses on my skin.

Then, almost ruining the moment, he commented, "You should take your clothes off Rosalie, they're all wet."

"Subtle, Emmett, real subtle."

He sighed, climbing out of the water too. He walked over to his only dry article of clothing and picked it up. "Here, my shirt is dry. Go put that on, it'll cover your legs too okay?" he said, holding it out to me. I watched him warily before snatching it form him and going behind a tree.

He groaned frustratingly. "Oh come on, give me a break Rose!" he yelled after me. I smirked at him before going behind a tree and quickly slipped my clothes off and his shirt on.

"And you're going to stay like that?"

"You took my shirt, remember? Besides, I'm a man in the wild with my fellow creatures, living free," he said, pretending to be a wild animal.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It didn't come out very ladylike either. It was more like a snort. Emmett ended up laughing at me and soon both of us were laughing.

I spotted his wet pants beside the water and he picked it up, attempting to put it on, and failing. He looked around and hooked it over a tree branch, letting the air run past it so it could dry.

"That could take a while to dry," I said, indicating the dripping pants.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Mine," I admitted smartly, giving him my dress that he also tossed across the branch.

"You know Edward cares a lot about you," Emmett said suddenly.

I played with the ends of Emmett's shirt, surprised. "Yeah, why?"

"He threatens me _a lot_. It's like he's in love with you."

"Please, we established a long time ago that we're not. We can barely stand each other, we're too alike, I suppose. But…" I sighed. "He and I care for each other. But if you tell _anyone_ I said that I'll slit your throat."

"My lips are sealed," he said, zipping his lips. "We'll come back for those later, I want to show you something else." He picked up my hand and we got our shoes, walking away from the waterfall. I glanced behind me and gave it one last fleeting look before turning back around.

Emmett continued to talk—and since when did he not, honestly? But I didn't mind—and I lost focus time and time again. I just liked looking at everything around us. When he talked, I stared at his profile and watched the way his eyes jumped all over the place, starting something without finishing the one before it. I saw the way he was always smiling, even as he talked.

And I needed him. Even after I told him about Royce, I still needed him, and that was something I thought I'd _never_ admit, but there I was. It wasn't in the sense that I needed him to live, but for now, he was my constant. He was my saviour. The way he acted, the way he was around me—he showed me that it was _okay_ to ask for help, and I can still be _me_. He saved me, but not the way Carlisle did.

But I guess, the Cullen's have been saving me too, way before I met Emmett. Edward made me forget, albeit temporarily. He made me _feel_, even if it was mostly rage. With Esme, she brought me light, and I knew Carlisle would do anything for me.

I frowned. I was so selfish. And Emmett… the way he waited and understood and _loved_ so unconditionally and without reason—it hurt. It hurt how someone like him could sit by so patiently. I knew that had he been anyone else, they would be long gone. I was a nuisance and when I looked at the side of his face, at his square jaw, I wondered why he was with me. Why he hadn't left any sooner. Why he was holding my hand.

He was afraid of losing me? He was wrong—it was the other way around.

And not once had I uttered the words. I had never told him I loved him. What was I waiting for? Why was I so stupid? If I waited he could leave me. He told me several times and not once had I told him a thing. How did he feel about that? I didn't know why I hadn't said a thing. Thinking back, he was everything right for me—he was perfect. It was my own insecurities that held me back, my own greed and pride that didn't let me realize what Emmett's worth to me really was.

And I loved him.

_I love him_.

The way we were under the waterfall… it was nothing like I had ever experienced before. I was never that happy or carefree or reluctant to let him touch me or hold me. That wasn't me after Royce nor was that me before Royce. I was never that _fun_. And now that he showed me a side of me I'd never heard of, I didn't ever want to change back to how I was. I couldn't let him go, not while he was helping me rediscover who I was. I needed him right now, so much.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't know where Emmett had brought me. I looked at him in confusion and saw him watching me intently.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes searching my face.

I gave him a small smile. "Yeah, just thinking. Anyway, where are we?"

"We're at the Alum Cave Trail. We—"

"Can you take me to the highest mountain?"

"Uh, sure, but we'd have to do a lot of walking."

"Sure," I responded, nodding enthusiastically and giving him an encouraging smile. We didn't spend long at the Alum Cave Trail, barely taking in the beautiful sights of the Arch Rock and Inspiration Point, as Emmett had called them.

We eventually made it what Emmett called the highest peak in the Great Smoky Mountains, but we were on the base and I pointed up and told him I wanted to stand at the top. He looked at me questioningly, but didn't ask anything. He told me that humans didn't go up there, but he said we could because we weren't human.

He made sure he was carrying me though, saying I was too delicate. I rolled my eyes, but let him nonetheless. With great speed we eventually got to the top.

"Well, this is it: Clingmans Dome, the highest mountain in the Smokies and in Tennessee," he said, stretching his arms as I climbed off of him.

I looked at the expanse of land and tried to take it all in. "It's so beautiful. Wow. Thanks, Emmett." I smiled at him shyly and he looked taken aback.

"Uh, no problem," he said, laughing a bit nervously at the end. "Why'd you want to come here?"

"Because I love you," I said meekly, turned away from him.

"What?"

I turned slowly, smiling and looking away from him. I pursed my lips together and let out a breathy laugh. "I just want the entire state of Tennessee to know, you know?" I bit the bottom corner of my lips and before he could say anything I turned back around.

"To know what?" he asked, coming closer behind me.

Smiling, I took a deep breath and yelled, "I _LOVE_ EMMETT MCCARTY!" I giggled at the end and turned to Emmett, who looked at me in shock before a smile—well, more like a grin—cracked his face as well.

"AND I LOVE ROSALIE HALE!" he yelled back, hearing the echo as well. He pulled me close, burying his nose in my hair. "Finally you tell me… and in the most romantic way possible. I see you've been learning from me."

"Yeah, of course," I said sarcastically. "You're not cold, are you?" I asked, suddenly remembering he was only wearing his underwear.

"The good thing about being a vampire? I don't feel a thing. Now… what do you love about me?"

"You're stupid hair and you're stupid smile and you're stupid laugh and you're stupid sense of humour and your stupid stupidity," I remarked, facing him and letting my mouth move against his jaw.

"Aw, you're too sweet," he said just as sarcastically as I had spoken before.

"Okay, this is getting _too _sweet, let's get our clothes," I said. I may have told him I love you, but I wasn't the complete romantic like he was (or pretended to be, I still didn't know)… at least not yet.

Emmett laughed and agreed, saying that people were probably going to start coming into the park and he didn't want anyone to see him like that. So he quickly hoisted me behind his back and zipped down the mountain, jumping precisely to not hit a thing. He knew the trail back to the waterfall and got us there in no time.

By the time we were there our clothes weren't still completely dry but damp. He tossed me my dress and I went behind the tree, but not before hearing him grown. When I came back with his shirt I laughed in his face and he snatched it from me, putting it on.

We were still wet, but it'd have to do, he said. So he held my hand again and I let him as he led us out of the park. The sun was slowly setting and it finally sank in how long we were there together.

"So, do you still love me?" he asked for the seventh time since we got down the mountain.

"Yes, now stop asking me before I take it back."

"You can't take them back. It's already been done."

"Yes, well…"

"Well what?"

"Shut up."

His laughter erupted from his chest yet again. He seemed to have an endless supply of laughter in him.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

We managed to look through the entire park, despite it having to take us all day. We avoided being around humans and spent much time to ourselves. It amazed me just how much of a romantic I had become. I mean, I always dreamed of finding a husband and having a wonderful life with him, but under these circumstances, it was different. I never imagined my life to be this way, especially after the transformation. I felt _normal_, almost—or, as normal as a vampire could be.

It was strange because back then when I was _human_ I wanted a man of elegance, class, and money. That was the kind of man someone of my beauty deserved, my mother and father told me. Yet here I was with a man who ran like a coyote, a man who didn't bother to clean up after himself, and had little to no money at all. He was the very opposite of what my parents wanted and I knew if they had ever met him they would have been appalled.

Yet he was everything I would have wanted in my human life.

I squeezed Emmett's hand and he squeezed mine back reassuringly as we finally made our way outside of the Great Smokies. The sun was still out but I knew it wouldn't be for long.

* * *

We ran out of Tennessee and past Virginia, through Maryland and past Pennsylvania until we ended up in New York. He had taken me to his home, and now it was time for me to take him to mine. It wasn't even home in the literal sense, but where we had grown up. Emmett had nature and wildlife around him, quiet nights and starry skies, while I had the bustling city and tall buildings in the city that never slept and the always illuminated skies.

"It's loud," was all Emmett said once we stood outside of the city. Even in the distance, we heard the noise which was much louder than Tennessee.

"Loud? When you talk to me it's like I'm in New York."

He didn't say anything to that and I smiled triumphantly.

I had been in the city only a handful of times as we preferred to stay in Rochester. I was however aware of the city around me and not completely clueless. I led the way for the most part as we trickled through the crowd. It was heavily populated, New York City, and I knew Emmett was overwhelmed. He glanced everywhere and looked at everything. People watched us too, for their eyes lingered a bit _too_ long.

When I looked down I realized what we were _wearing_. We stood out in our wrinkled clothes—me in my sundress and him in his tattered shirt and pants. I hadn't even seen myself in a mirror throughout our entire trip. I pulled Emmett away from the crown and into a corner away from the people and he just watched me carefully as I looked around frantically.

"How's my hair? Do I look like a mess? And this _dress_ is a complete mess. We don't belong here! And you're... you're, I don't even know _how_ to describe it. I mean, look at us around all these men in zoot suits and the women in _those_ dresses—which my the way are really long and I don't care if mine are right on the knee, I mean I'm not a harlot, but it's not my fault Esme's dresses are too short—"

"Breathe, Rosalie," Emmett interrupted, chuckling. I scowled at him and he held the sides of my face. "Who cares what they think? You could be wearing nothing and still be a million times prettier than any girl there," he said it so softly, so confidently, that I believed it. I was _different_ from those girls around me. I was taller than them—I was seventy inches tall against a slew of women who were only six-four inches tall, like Esme was. I had long flowing blond hair against the sea of short, fingered waves adorning their heads. And Emmett, he was a giant himself, towering over all the men around us. We were _giants_.

"Hey," he asked again, trying to reassure me, "don't let them stop you. You're Rosalie Hale, right? Come on." He pulled me from the wall and we walked through New York City and I tried to be as confident as possible. It got easier over time and I felt myself acting like I did when I were human. Stares lingered and I stared at them back passively until they looked away.

I window shopped a lot and would have gone in and marvelled at the racks of dresses, but Emmett had pulled me away. We didn't have any money on us anyway. We went through the Brooklyn and Queens and along the Upper East Side. I ignored any glances our ways and held onto Emmett's hand as he strode with confidence through the streets despite having no idea where he was. Soon, we ended up in Manhattan and in the Theatre District.

"Wow," I said breathlessly, staring up into the tall buildings.

"You've never been to the theatre?"

"No, why? Have you?"

"I just assumed that a city girl like you would've. And me? No, we didn't have any of this in Tennessee."

"My mother hated it. She preferred going into the boutiques and having brunch to seeing a show. She hated the cinema as well so..." I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders.

Emmett grinned at me. "Want to see a show?" He looked around, trying to read one of the signs. "_Anything Goes_ is playing at the Neil Simon Theatre at dark. What do you say?"

I laughed at him and shook my head. "We don't even have money, Emmett," I said, but watched as he pulled something out of his pocket. "Where'd you get that?" I whispered harshly, as if we were about to get caught for stealing.

"Esme gave it to me before we left, just in case. She knows your expensive tastes, you know," Emmett said cheekily, showing me the amount of money he had in a little wallet. "So, what d'you say?"

I snatched the money from his hands and ran, and instead of running to the theatre I went back towards the shops, but he caught up and grabbed me by the waist, taking the wallet back and dragging me back to Broadway.

"Women," he said under his breath and I smacked his shoulder and he laughed. When he put me down I crossed my arms but he ignored me and got us tickets instead. The man selling them regarded him carefully, taking in his body of pure muscle shown off by his short sleeved shirt and his towering height. Almost frighteningly, he handed him the two tickets and Emmett sauntered back to me as I laughed at him and the picture he presented.

My laughter could hardly contain itself and Emmett practically attacked me, entrapping me in a bear hug. And through it all I realized something: I didn't care. I was careless, fearless, and doubtless. Accompanied by the man I adorned and _loved_, I knew that I was okay and that everything was alright for now.

The show wasn't going to start for another hour so we kept circling New York like a moth to a flame. We were reckless and laughed as we moved and I was fine.

When the musical actually started we were victims of the stares, the glances, and the whispers—and we could hear them all. Some were demeaning and some were appreciative, but I held back, even without Emmett's restraint. It didn't stop me from enjoying being where I was at that very moment.

He was everything to me.


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

It had been three months since our escapade, since I told Emmett I loved him and for the first time in a long time since I was truly happy. We spent every single day together and mostly away from the rest of the family. We travelled all across America and always made it back by night. And with him, I was more _fun_—his words, not mine.

I pulled my dress on, an electric blue that came to my knees, before putting red lipstick on my lips. My hair was perfectly straight and had an impeccable shine to it even without the sunlight. I was the antithesis of Esme who adorned dresses coming to her ankles and no makeup on her young face. Even as I travelled with Emmett I turned heads, and through Emmett's confidence came mine and I soon didn't have a care for the world.

I opened my bedroom door and quickly walked to the living room where Edward was practising the piano while Esme and Carlisle were out hunting.

"Where's Emmett?" I asked Edward in the middle of his piece, not caring that I interrupted him. I looked around the room and found no traces of the giant beast.

Edward shrugged his shoulders, getting back into the flow of the keys as he played. "He left a while ago—right after you went to your room."

"Did he say why?"

"Nope." He closed his eyes and began a more complicated ensemble, and I think that meant he wanted me to leave.

Fat chance.

Instead of blabbering more I quickly and quietly strode to Edward and plopped down right beside him on the piano bench. Normally, I wouldn't spend my free time around him, but I was bored and boy, did I enjoy pissing him off. I made sure to take as much space as possible, making him scoot over until nearly half his body was off of the bench.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked with his eyes still closed.

"Distracting you."

He didn't answer me after that and started to play a new song as I stared at the ceiling, my head tilter back. I glanced at Edward's face and saw that he was concentrated yet calm, and there were no harsh lines etched on his face—not that that would do much in marring how he looked. A smile quirked his lips and I resisted the urge to hit him.

I watched his fingers dance effortlessly across the keys to a song I didn't recognize. When he was done I stared at him in slight awe that I didn't want him to notice—he did—and he told me, in a voice so soft that it was almost unrecognizable, and said, "Happy birthday, Rosalie."

"Did Esme put you up to this?" I asked suspiciously.

"I'm not a monster, Rose," he said, but I kept my eye on him. He sighed. "No. You're my sister so family comes first, right? I don't hate you, if that's what you think." His voice went over the piano as he continued to play—a new song, one I recognized.

And I didn't _hate_ him, exactly. I might've loathed him at times, but hate him? No. That was reserved for a couple of people—Royce being one of them. And Edward didn't have the honour of being on that list.

Edward must've known what I was thinking because his expression changed slightly. I saw in his face that he wanted to say something but didn't.

"You don't have to treat me like a doll, just tell me about Royce."

"Rose, it's your birthday; just forget about him for today, at least."

"He killed me on my birthday; I don't think I can just _forget_ about him."

"I know. Well, I don't _know_, but… Emmett knows right?" he asked and I nodded my head. "So he'll understand if you're… moody." I glared at him and just when I was about to talk back I heard the front door open.

Before I could even move I saw Emmett strolling in, a smile plastered on his face that seemed too wide, and his eyes lit up. I watched him warily and I knew something was up. This was probably the one time—and I shuddered just thinking about it—that I wish I were Edward so I could read the fool's mind.

"Why are you so happy?" I paused. "I mean, happier than normal?" I asked Emmett, my voice flat as I spoke. If there was something I learned about Emmett after knowing him for nearly a year, it was that he couldn't keep secrets. And I knew just how to weed out the truth from him.

His smile faltered for a second before it came back. I raised my brow at him and he glanced at Edward for a moment before returning his eyes back to mine. I watched him partly out of curiosity and partly out of wanting to know what he could possibly be thinking.

"Can't I be happy?"

"No," I said after a moment, not really knowing how to respond to him.

Emmett chuckled and came close to me, ruffling my hair with his hand which I immediately slapped away. I tried to smooth my hair back down, but without a mirror my attempt was fruitless. I pointed a finger at his chest and said icily, "Don't touch my hair or I'll castrate you."

"And she's serious," Edward interjected, rising from the piano bench before turning to leave.

I saw Emmett's eyes drift at Edward's retreating form, his only hope of escaping intact now gone. He chuckled nervously and looked down at me before picking me up from the floor. I was caught my surprised and squealed, but he didn't put me down.

Then, he began to carry me outside.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked at him.

"Letting you see why I'm so happy."

I let him wordlessly carry me—and it wasn't that I didn't trust him because I knew he was strong enough to hold like five of me. It was because I felt _comfortable_ in his arms. Strange. I frowned at the thought and shifted positions. He noticed and stopped moving.

"Something wrong?" he asked, and I almost giggled at the cute forlorn look on his face.

I shook my head. "Just wondering what has you so happy. Besides seeing me of course," I said teasingly, squeezing one of his cheek's between my fingers. Emmett proceeded to continue to walk, taking me to the garage. I raised a brow, but then wondered if he got me a car for almost destroying mine.

"Now before you get too excited… it's not a car." Emmett chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

We stood in front of the garage door for quite some time before I grew restless. I gave him a side-eye and then asked, impatiently, "Well? What are we waiting for? My next birthday?"

"So demanding," Emmett muttered, slowly opening the garage.

When what was behind the door exposed itself I stared at it for a moment before looking at Emmett. He looked so giddy with a goofy smile on his face as he stalked forward to that _thing_.

The thing with that _thing_ was that it was covered by a blanket and faint lines were visible, but I still couldn't figure out what was underneath. I kept my eyes trained on Emmett as he stood beside it and turned to me, that smile almost permanently etched onto his face.

I gave a very non-convincing smile before it died down shortly after. I was speechless, but it wasn't in the good way. What could be under there?

Emmett broke me from my trance when he suddenly guffawed with laughter. I frowned and I knew if he could cry, he would. When he heard that I wasn't laughing he halted all movement and watched me as well.

"It's under here, and since it's your birthday, I thought I'd give you the pleasure of unveiling it," he said oh so sweetly.

I took tentative steps forward and touched one side of the blanket. Immediately, my hand withdrew itself, given how _dirty_ it was. Emmett noticed and rolled his eyes—and received a glare by me—before pulling the blanket off himself. I shut my eyes, fearing he would throw it over me, but he didn't. He threw it across the room and over my head. I watched it fly swiftly in the air before landing softly on the ground.

When I turned, I was speechless—in the good way.

"What the hell?" I said without thinking, trying to taken.

Emmett's face fell and his mood look darkened, but I quickly tried to reassure him. "It's a good thing, Em," I murmured, tracing the cool metal with my fingers.

It was red, it had wheels…

As my eyes wandered through the contraption it soon rested at the front. There, written in black was a piece of paper taped on the front that read _Cadillac_. I grin broke out across my face and I started to laugh at the sight of it. Leaning against the wall right in front of me was a red bicycle with the word Cadillac taped onto the front.

Still laughing, I turned my eyes to Emmett and he looked nervous. He wasn't laughing with me.

"You don't like it?" he asked cautiously, trying to stand in front of it.

I pushed him out of the way—well, attempted to—and began shaking my head feverously. "No, no, no… I love it. It's exactly what I wanted, Em," I said sincerely, putting my arms around his chest and resting my head on his shoulder.

"You wanted a Cadillac. It was stupid, I know—"

"Shut up, Emmett. I wanted a red Cadillac and you got me one."

I knew he could have never gotten me the real thing. I knew. Emmett was humble, forthcoming, but also stubborn. He didn't mind help, yes, but when it came to things he thought about immensely, he always wanted to do it alone. He wouldn't have ever borrowed money from Carlisle, and I knew the life he had before me—before _us_. He worked a simple job with little pay and used whatever money he had from his human life to get me something so _human_—a bicycle. What vampire needed a bicycle when they could outrun the fastest sports car?

I knew with other necessities he wouldn't mind taking some money from Carlisle, but for something _me_, he wanted to do it himself. I held on tighter to him, burying my face against the crook of his neck. He cared for me so much. He loved me so much. And I would never doubt him ever.

"As much as I enjoy you pressed up against me, why don't we test this out?"

"Now?" I asked, pulling back.

"Unless you want it to collect dust, then yes, now."

"Okay…" I said carefully.

"You've never ridden a bicycle before, have you?"

After a moment of hesitation I answered, "No."

He laughed. And I knew he would, and it didn't hurt. I just walked past him and hopped on the bicycle, almost toppling over had it not been for my long legs steadying in. Emmett came behind me and started to push me forward and I squealed.

"Emmett! What are you doing, what if I get killed?"

Emmett only laughed and continued to push me forward. "If you don't want to fall over, I suggest putting your feet on the pedals and your hands on the wheel, not me." Emmett chuckled and I quickly scrambled to put my hands and feet in the proper place. Emmett wasn't pushing me fast by any means, but having never ridden a bicycle in my life, I was kind of nervous.

I was breathing heavily, my hands having a death grip on the handlebars. Emmett noticed. He laughed. _Again_.

"Shut up, Emmett!"

He then tried to coax me into taking my hands _off_ the handlebars, to which I adamantly denied. "No, Emmett! You might be able to with your million years of bike riding, but as a beginner, I refuse!"

Emmett seemed to be having more fun pushing me than me actually riding the bike.

"Try it, it's fun!" Emmett continued to jostle me as he said it.

"Of course not!"

He seemed so sure I could do it, he seemed to believe in me, when I couldn't even believe in myself. He would try to push me past my limit, past my safe zone, and make me want more. The way I grew up, I didn't live on edge like he did, but safely behind it. I had all my human life to live conservatively, and now I wanted something more.

"What if I fall off?" I asked quietly.

Emmett slowed down until he was lightly jogging.

"I'll catch you."

"But what if I fall forward and you're not there?"

"I'll still catch you."_"_

"What if I get hurt?"

"You won't because I'll have caught you."

"What if you get hurt?"

"Stop asking questions woman, and just lift your hands up!"

"No!"

As much as I wanted to I just _couldn't_—I couldn't go from doting daughter to a rebellious woman in one go. I was nervous, I was shaking, and I knew Emmett could feel it. I had no doubt in my mind that he would catch me, but depending on someone for something wasn't an easy thing to swallow. I had depended on Royce to buy me nice things and compliment me—and look where that got me.

Eventually Emmett stopped moving, halting me as well. Slowly, his hands released themselves from my waist and he placed his on top of mine. His chest was so close to my back, and I could feel his curly hair tickling my cheek. He looked at me smiling, and I couldn't help smiling back.

"Don't ever let me go," I told him quietly, leaning my head back and letting my hair fall gently across his arm.

"I have to let you go sometimes."

"I know. Just not right now."

My skin felt warm and I swore I could feel my heart beating against my ribcage. And I had never felt more human than that very moment.

His lips slowly descended onto mine and we kissed lightly for only about five seconds before I started to giggle. "My bum hurts," I murmured, attempting to remove myself from the seat while staying in the kiss.

Soon Emmett was laughing as well and pulled away from me. My long limbs had gotten tangled in the process so Emmett lifted me while keeping hold of the bicycle with his feet. He placed me on the floor and swung bicycle over his shoulder and I called him a show-off under my breath.

"No, Rose, _this_ would be a show off," he said and lifted me from the ground with his other hand. He then turned and began to walk us back to the house. And I didn't relent, just started to peck him lightly on his face and neck, hoping to distract him. I didn't.

When we got back to the house we could hear Carlisle, Esme, and Edward talking. Carlisle was the first to notice us and he strode over, hugging me gently. "Happy birthday, Rosalie," he murmured into my hair.

At that moment memories of that night flooded through me. I remembered being in the alley and watching a figure looming before me, thinking it was Royce back for more. I remembered the searing pain in my bones, the rush through my veins, and the stillness of my heart. I remembered being granted another chance at life and rejecting it. But for the first time I felt like this was right, that I was given another chance to meet Emmett. Before, I would have given up everything just to be human, and now I wasn't sure.

"Thank you for saving me," I whispered, looking at the floor. Carlisle squeezed my arm encouragingly, and let me go.

Esme came next, a box in her hands. She smiled so warmly, so delicately, holding it out for me. I took it and lifted the box, gasping at the diamond earring inside. "What…"

"Happy birthday, Rosalie. We're going hunting, would you two like to join us?"

I shook my head, smiling. Edward's eyes snapped to mine and I only raised a brow, turning away from him. "I'd like to be alone with Emmett, if that's okay?" I asked them, but mostly asked Emmett.

Emmett smiled. "Sure."

When Carlisle, Esme, and Edward left we were still standing in the living room, the box of diamond earrings in my hand. I put the box on the table and wrapped my arms around Emmett's neck and he hoisted my legs around his waist. He began to walk to his room as I pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

"I love you," I said, running my lips across his. My hands gripped his shirt and I pressed myself against him when he sat me on the bed. I pulled him down with me, his body on top of mine. He responded to my kisses my flourishing me with more pressure, our bodies intertwining into one. I kicked my shoes off and pulled him back so we laid across the bed. I ran my hands through his thick hair, my nails against his back before pulling them and his shirt back up with it.

I moved my hands back to his front and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. I was almost to the last one when I hear Emmett groan before pulling my hands away from him with his.

"Rose…" he said, sounding physically pained as he said it.

"What?" I replied almost breathlessly.

He didn't respond at first as he backed away, and I lifted the dress from underneath me, causing it to ride up. Emmett's eyes lingered and I reached for him, wanting him.

"I trust you, Em."

"I know, but it's too soon—"

"It's been a year, Emmett! I'm not delicate and I love you."

I tore his shirt from him and attempted to pull down his slacks as my dress rode up past my navel. We were lying on the bed again and I could feel his eyes burning through my body. My hair was now a dishevelled mess but I didn't care.

"No, Rose," he said to firmly, so sure of himself.

I slowly pulled away, my hands falling to my sides and I just stared at him. He reached for me, but I pulled away. He showered me with kisses, told me he loved me countless times, but didn't want to "hurt" me. He thought I was broken but I had already been fixed—by him. He had bandaged me up and healed the wounds throughout the year and I wanted to show him how much he meant to me. But he didn't want me.

He didn't want me.

"If you don't, I'm leaving Emmett," I whispered distantly.

"Rose…"

I sat up abruptly, watching him half-clothed. I shook my head at him, smoothing down my dress and stormed out of his room. I heard him follow me and as much as I wanted to run back into his arms I couldn't. He was treating me just like everyone else, like a glass doll about to break any second. All I was supposed to do was lock myself behind clear glass and let people see me, but not touch.

I heard him coming closer and I knew I couldn't outrun him, but I'd be damned if I didn't try. I burst out the front door, avoiding the forest and just running. And that's what I did with all my problems—I ran from them. When things didn't go my way I ran.

I was heading nowhere, just running. There was no burning and never once did I feel tired as I ran, letting the wind whip my blond hair. I was running so fast that I felt all my swelling feelings surge past me as well as the cold, hard truth.

I stopped suddenly, trying to control myself before I went crazy. I put my hands on my head, my appetite gone as I paced back and forth. Maybe I was meant to be alone.

Emmett didn't want me. Why would Emmett not want me? Was I too thin? Did I complain too much? Was I selfish?

There was one person in the world who I could tell everything to and trust mind, body, and soul… and I tore him right out of my life.

"You're right, you are selfish." I heard someone say from behind me.

I turned slowly, my emotions a wreck and my heart in absolute shambles, to see Edward standing there.

"We were coming back from our hunt and we saw Emmett at the front of the house. He went to the forest, but I had a feeling you wouldn't go there. And I could read your mind and all," he said, attempting humour. The thing was, Edward and humour didn't mix. He was more of a serious button-up shirt kind of guy.

"What do you want, Edward?"

"Other than trying to block out the thought of you and Emmett engaging in…"

"Sex."

"—Yes. You are selfish," he repeated just as bluntly.

"Don't you think I know that? I'm trying, I'm trying so hard to change, but I can't. Not after Royce. And I can't keep using him as an excuse, but I have this wall up now because of him. And Emmett is getting through and I'm letting him. I'm letting him have me and he says _no_." I didn't know why I was opening up to Edward. I think something inside of me erupted and now I couldn't control the wave of emotions washing through me and onto him.

"You're scared—I get that, but don't you think Emmett is too?"

What did a big tough guy like Emmett had to be afraid of?

"He knows everything about your past and I'm sure as hell he's never been with a girl with that much emotional baggage. It's his first time as well as yours. The problem is that you bottle things up so he doesn't know what you want. You're not an open book, Rosalie. You're sealed shut and wrapped inside newspaper, about to be sent off to Florida. If I couldn't read your mind I'd be just as clueless as him and I wouldn't even know you."

Edward stepped forward towards me, his eyes boring onto mine.

"I wouldn't know that you care so much about the people who care about you; I wouldn't know that you wanted to please everyone that you would do anything for them even if it went against who you were. All I would know from you was something I saw from face value—a girl who wants everything even if she knows she can't have it. All I would see would be a needy, self-centered woman who pretends she doesn't need anyone. You're pretending you don't need Emmett but I know you. Try to imagine what Emmett's feeling because I've been in that head and it's not pretty. He walks on eggshells around you because you never really _talk_ to him. And maybe you should."

Everything he said collided against me, knocking down the rubble from the walls I had placed around me. And I was scared that Edward knew me more than not just Emmett, but myself. I wanted Emmett to be able to read me so well, be able to get me without needing to read my mind. I needed to tell him things.

But would he want me?

I looked at Edward and he didn't answer me, just nodded his head back to where the house was.

I brushed past him and murmured thanks, and it was something Edward didn't take lightly. I feared Emmett was rubbing off on him. I shuddered at the thought of a funny Edward.

"What was that, Rosalie? Thank you?"

"Yes, Edward." I groaned.

The mood however shifted dramatically once I saw the house, and even more when I saw who was standing in front of it. I turned back, but noticed Edward was gone. With downcast eyes I turned back to Emmett, who was now in front of me. All he did was look at me and everything Edward had said came crashing back to me. His voice was pounding in my head that I didn't hear what Emmett had said to me.

"What?" I asked.

"Come back to me, please."

I tore my eyes away from his, anguish burning through me, hot and searing like fire. "You've always had me—you've never lost me."

"I'm serious."

I looked into his eyes and hated who I had become. It wasn't his fault I was out of control, it was mine. Without even knowing I shut myself from the people who cared about me and blamed them for it. I didn't understand why Emmett was with me when I wasn't stable—insecurities were too much for a young vampire to deal with, especially one that was pulled away from a happy-go-luck human life.

He did so much for me but all I took in were his faults without even regarding me. He looked past mine, but I was still stuck in time like my heart.

And it wasn't fair to him. I was hurting him.

I shook my head at him, and I knew if I could cry and I would be in tears. "I can't Emmett. Look at me, I'm needy and self-centered and then there's you. All I'm doing is stopping you from being who you are; all I'm doing is standing in the way."

"Rose, that's not true."

"Yes it is. I can't compromise and share you with the world; I need to have you, entirely, to myself. I'm selfish, I want everything, but I want to change too, but I don't want you to suffer like you have been for the past year. I'm a mess, I'm emotionally unstable, and I have so many problems and you don't have any at all."

His hands were now on my hips and as much as I wanted to pull away I couldn't. He had a way of having me right where he wanted.

"Don't. You're not selfish, you just care too much."

"I'm not nice."

"You're confident."

"I'm clingy."

"You're loving."

"You don't want me back."

"You don't know me."

I fell into his arms then, holding him tightly. "I'm sorry."

He held my face in his hands. "Hey, look at me. Couples fight, we fight, and then we move on. This is good, okay? We'll talk it out and fix things and then we'll go back to how we were—except better. We'll talk about today, about tonight. We'll scream, we'll yell, and you'll probably throw things. But don't think I'm letting you go so easily."

My hands went to his and I smiled tentatively at him. "Do you really mean that?" I asked, finally realizing how lucky I was to have him.

Emmett lightly kissed me on the lips and I felt the slight curve of his mouth against mine. "If I told you I was still in love with you, would you believe me?" he asked.

"Always."

"I love you too."

* * *

**a/n:** huge apologies for the delay (if anyone is actually still reading this!). inspiration actually ran dry and while i was cleaning my files i found this half-written and was suddenly inspired again. hopefully it doesn't disappear for a prolonged time again. also, as i reread this i find that i have rosalie and emmett fighting a lot ahaha. but this whole mccarty thing is done now, so their relationship will only be going up now, and no more serious fights!


	39. Part Four: Quileute

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

When we returned to the house Carlisle, Esme, and Edward were sitting on the couch, probably waiting for us. And they probably heard everything we said. If they did, they made no move to show it.

And I knew from the look on Esme's face that they were hiding something from us. Even Emmett picked up on it. In our family, it was Esme and Emmett who couldn't keep secrets.

"What's going on?" I decided to finally ask, my eyes transfixed on Esme. She would crack at any moment. One… two… three…

"We're moving!" Esme exclaimed as she literally bounced on the couch, something I had seen for the first time in my life and wondered if I ever wanted to bear witness to again. The silence must've stretched longer than we though however because no one was moving except Esme—who soon halted as well.

"What? Did you kids not want to move?" There was something about Esme—she had a way of roping you in through guilt. Not that I didn't want to move. Frankly, I didn't really care.

"No, no, no!" I tried to explain quickly. "I _am_ excited. It just kind of took me by surprise. We need a change of scenery though, so…" I trailed off, not knowing where I was headed. I turned to Emmett. "Emmett?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. You know me; I just go where the wind takes me."

"How philosophical," I muttered. I noticed that Edward was quite and that they must have already told him.

"Where are we going anyways?" Emmett asked.

"Well, Carlisle's thought of transferring somewhere more remote for us and… you two, for privacy reasons. We'd be able to go out more and maybe get you kids finally enrolled in school. As for where we're going—"

"Dear, you sure know how to drag things on." Carlisle chuckled. "We're going to Forks, Washington. There's an abundance of forest there."

I looked at Carlisle strangely. "Forks? Did you close your eyes and just point on a map? How did you pick a town no one's ever heard of, Carlisle?"

Carlisle looked amused and shrugged his shoulders. "Forks has an extensive wildlife and there's practically no sun there. Granted, it doesn't affect us much, but after a while it does begin to burn."

"When are we leaving?"

"Whenever you want. Or actually, as soon as possible," Carlisle said.

I should have known that as soon as possible to Carlisle actually meant _today_ as we ran from Virginia to Washington. Change and relocating was easy for us—we never built strong ties with the town we were in to stay and a different view of the world was what I needed. Virginia and Tennessee held a lot of memories, but I wanted to start fresh. And then maybe Emmett and I could visit back there again one day.

So I didn't mind the sudden move—none of us did. That was the upside to being a vampire, I guess. No attachments to the mortal world. We also decide to forgo our cars because one, mine was destroyed, and two, it would take days to get to Washington by driving alone. Emmett did however insist on carrying my new birthday bicycle with him.

Emmett and I ran together and Carlisle, Esme, and Edward were behind us, but way off into the distance. Emmett was silent as we ran and I knew he was guilty and I wanted to laugh. But I also knew we had more serious issues to talk about, something I was reluctant to approach and something I knew he was treading water against.

My body was stiff and I began to run even faster without even knowing it. I was gnawing my bottom lip and wanted to just close my eyes, but I also didn't want to crash into a tree like Carlisle had before.

"Rosalie…" Emmett started, noticing me. It was so strange to hear the name Rosalie come from him—I was so used to being known as Rose. I kind of missed it.

"Yeah?" I asked him, slowing down and glancing his way for a moment, taking in the serious and contemplative look on his face as he stared right at me. It took me by surprise. I excepted him to be looking away and off into the distance, but his eyes were locked right into mine.

He reached over slowly, resting one hand against mine until we stopped in the middle of a forest. "I do want you. I want all of you, every single day. It's just—I knew it was the anniversary of your death and I didn't want… that to happen just to help you forget. I want it to be real. I want it to be us and only us with no one else on our mind. But I don't know you so I guess I shouldn't just assume to know you—"

"And that's my fault. Edward said I was a closed book… and I guess I am. Sometimes—well, most of the time… okay all the time—I don't like Edward, and I especially don't like him when he's right. And I want to change for you, for us."

"Don't. Don't change. I love you just the way you are. Fights and altercations and keeping distance… it all happens to even the best of us."

"And the worst of us will always be the same degenerative self," I muttered bitterly.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Put yourself down. You're not selfish. I know it. Everyone who matters knows it. So leave it at that."

"Old habits die hard." I tried to pass it off with a shrug, but grew uncomfortable when I felt his stare penetrate through my defences. I didn't want to look at him but knew his jaw was rigid because I felt his hand on mine stiffen.

"Would it help if I said I didn't exactly want to turn you away?" he asked, his voice deep and rich as if it'd been soaked in dark chocolate and caused me to quiver in response.

My awareness of him made it impossible to ignore how good he looked, from his curly black hair and cute dimples that stayed even during the immortal process Carlisle had put him through.

"So you're saying you enjoyed it?" I asked with breathy curiosity. I raised my brow at him, waiting for his answer. I could feel the nervousness wafting from him, surrounding me like smoke.

Instead of answering the corner of his mouth tipped into a partial smirk that was more playful than condescending.

Tease.

My relief dimmed as he put his feet up on my dashboard. "So… we're okay?"

"Babe, we've always been okay. Just please talk to me about anything, everything. And I promise I'll have you by the New Year, now that I know you're okay." He winked and I turned away from him.

I didn't say anything after that, mostly because I didn't know what to say.

"Have you… have you done it before?" I asked tentatively, flustered. My insides were in knots and there were butterflies inside of me, wishing for escape. I saw Emmett scratch the back of his neck and I knew the truth. Before he could answer I did for him. "It's okay, I don't mind. As long as there's no one else after us."

Emmett laughed. "You're so cute when you're nervous!" he said, attempting to soothe me as he played with my hands, lacing them through his.

"Don't call me cute, Emmett."

Emmett rolled his eyes and ignored me. "Don't worry, after me… well, they'll be no one after me. They don't call me The Man for nothing."

"Oh my God, not this again. I really don't want to hear about your past escapades." I broke away from his hold and began to walk away.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I just know you'll be the best I've ever had. All that pent up anger boiling inside of you… yowza!"

My breath was shallow and I knew if I looked at him I wouldn't be able to resist. I didn't know how I was going to resist him when we were running alone with no one in sight. We were in Nebraska so we were half way there, and because I didn't have anything to say to him I ran and let him chase after me.

No words were passed between us once we reached Washington, and when we were finally at the house I halted, taking it in. The run didn't take long at all and I wasn't the least bit tired.

The house itself was small and cozy and I immediately liked it. We were literally in the middle of nowhere, away from people, but full of wildlife that I could smell once we stepped foot into this state.

Before I could fully appreciate the sights and sounds, Emmett's arms wrapped around me as he began to kiss my neck. Carlisle, Esme, and Edward weren't here yet as we stood in front of the barren house. Most of the inside was already furnished so we didn't need to bring anything with us. But I still wanted another car—preferably a Cadillac.

Emmett's mouth was in my hair and he said, in a low, scratchy voice, "I can't keep doing this."

I stiffened beside him, and shifted back, extracting a groan from him. "What?"

Feverishly bright, his eyes were a lustrous gold made more illuminant by desire that I knew where it was coming from. But in that instant it turned much darker in shameless yearning and determination. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I want you, Rose."

God help me, I wanted him too, so badly I felt like the ache coiled tight within, the ravenous appetite I had for him would never be sated. Emmett dipped his head for another kiss but I averted my face at the last minute so that his lips glanced innocently off my cheek. "I don't want us to fight. I don't want this to end up with us yelling and ignoring each other. I can't do that again. And I know it's my fault, but I… I… you mean too much to me."

"Look at me. Rose, look at me," he repeated, firmly. "It won't come to that."

"You don't know that."

"Who cares about what I know and what you don't know." Emmett clamped his hands low on my hips, pulling me against him. "I won't hurt you. I will do all I can to prevent that from happening." He turned me around and sealed the promise on my lips. My eyes drifted shut his mouth worked the tension from my muscles with each, bone-melting kiss.

Under his gentle ministrations, I gradually sank into his inviting heat, defences collapsing to my feet. I turned into his neck, inhaling his scent. "You'd better be worth it," I murmured, poking his ribs.

"I've got a better idea." I squealed when he lifted me from the ground, my legs instinctively fastening around his lean waist. "How about I show you what it's worth."

Before I could respond his lips connected with mine and he practically ran into the small house we would be living in for however long we planned to stay. I opened my eyes once we were inside, wanting to know what the place actually looked like.

Emmett pushed me against one of the walls and I broke away from his kiss, spotting the living area and kitchen. My head turned, taking everything in, and I felt Emmett's finger turning me back.

"We can take a tour later. Right now, we have more important business to attend to," he husked uncontrollably. He pulled me away from the wall and into one of the rooms furthest from the entrance and we fell onto the bed that was already there. "I guess this room is yours and mine." He smiled as his lips were tangled in mine before pulling away so I could remove his shirt.

My attempts were futile so he began to remove it himself and I stared at the smooth expanse of his neck and his finely toned chest and perfectly symmetrical pectorals all the way down to trail the dark line of fine hair that disappeared into his pants.

I caught myself too late when my gaze returned to his face, and I knew from his darkened expression that he had witnessed my scrutiny.

"Are you sure you want this?"

"I'm sure," I said lowly, desire washing through me.

"Just tell me stop and I'll stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

And as soon as those words left my mouth something darker shone in his eyes, something much more potent lurking behind his usually topaz coloured eyes. The sight of him made the sweltering heat appear out of nowhere. He wasn't even touching me and yet my body had become warm.

His presence was pulling me into him, devouring anything that stood in the way. He stood so close that I could breathe him in, the sweet, lingering aroma of something so Emmett.

Acting on impulse I jumped from the bed and latched onto him, pressing myself against him. The solid tone of his hard body moulded with my softness and I knew it was Emmett who I wanted to spend eternity with.

Emmett's pupils lost their gaze and his eyes had a new awareness and then understanding. I spotted a delicate smile on his lips before they crashed down onto mine, the impact creating an explosion that sent fire from my mouth down to the soles of my feet. He tasted of lust and sweetness and something inherently Emmett, which didn't turn out to be all that bad.

He was gentle throughout, yet rough at the same time as he took control of the kiss until I gasped, parting my lips and gave him the opportunity to seize my tongue. He held the back of my neck and slammed us against a wall so hard I was sure there was a dent. Emmett was restless and couldn't stop moving as we hit things along the way, but it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt, not anymore.

We stumbled out into the hall and he pushed us against another wall, and this time we went right through it. I wanted to look up, but Emmett's kisses told me not to care. The erotic shock of our bodies pushing against walls and tables and the collision's brief sting extracted a moan that I didn't have the time to swallow.

"Too rough?" Emmett murmured, chuckling.

I chuckled against his lips too. "This is child's play, Emmett. Where is this Man that you talk about?" I playfully chided.

"Feisty."

My taunting seemed to spur him on. With swift efficiency, he moved me effortlessly to the countertop. Hands tangled in hair, teeth and mouths clashed viciously, my fingernails raked his back and his along my sides as our pelvises rotated and ground against one another, sparking a delicious, desperate friction that had flamed bursting out of my eyeballs and contractions building and tightening in my lower stomach.

He was pushing so hard that I heard the table snap, but he pulled me away from it just in time.

I abruptly broke away, glancing briefly at the dishevelled house. "Not bad."

"Oh, honey, we're not done yet." He said, his eyes burning with an intensity that knocked the air from my lungs and the smile from my face. The increased pressure on my hips only heightened as his lips once again found mine.

I rolled my head to the side. "And what if I said no?"

Emmett groaned. "I'd stop."

But I didn't let him as my mouth found his once again. His hand crept under my dress and stopped mere inches away from the juncture where my thighs met. My flesh jumped at the unexpected contact and began trembling as he kneaded slow, torturous circles on my skin.

No more words were said as we were lost in another ravishing kiss that bordered on violent. I was dimly aware of use haphazardly stumbling through the house while maintaining physical contact, breaking and smashing things in the process, bodies slamming, clothes being ripped and thrown off, hitting a bed, and then the pain and pleasure so exquisitely intertwined that I had to bite my tongue to keep from swallowing it.

Despite his dominance, Emmett was incredibly gentle as he slowly entered, kissing my face to try and extract the pain contorted in my eyes. But when my eyes finally opened once he was inside we couldn't break contact. There was more pain than pleasure at first and I knew if there hadn't been such rough foreplay that it wouldn't be as enjoyable as it was.

The last thing I remembered was saying Emmett's name before we drove each other towards the brink of ecstasy.

* * *

I didn't know I had nodded off until my eyes slowly fluttered open. We hadn't been sleeping—because we couldn't—but after three rounds I felt like I could. The plush comforter dipped as Emmett and I moved, coaxing me into slipping back into the lulling fantasies I had been having.

My head felt hazy, but I also felt renewed, reawakened, like coming to after an exhausting nightmare. And I guess I had, in a way. All the nightmares haunting me before Emmett were nothing compared to having this big grizzly bear with me to protect me. Sex, for me at least, had not been enjoyable, but after Emmett… it had been something else entirely. I didn't want to cry or escape, I wanted to stay.

A part of me still couldn't grasp the hard reality of what had just transpired. He had seen me vulnerable before, but now Emmett had stripped me of my closely guarded inhibitions. Each kiss had sealed a promise, each touch carried an oath. And in them he'd proven his trustworthiness, his loyalty.

Our joining had been a purging, a release of all the bad memories I had. And in the end it had created something so fragile I could scarcely move for fear I'd shatter it.

Beside me I could hear the rhythmic in and out of his breathing. I knew he was wide awake, waiting to see how I would react. When I faced him the heat of his gaze seared holes into the back of my head. The torrent of emotions thrummed beneath my skin. What if this was a mistake? Had we been moving too fast? Would he regret it?

Pressure constricted in my chest, and then a hand skimmed the swell of my hip. Instantly the maelstrom hushed to a distant murmur. I relaxed under his touch. In it I found solace. Peace. Reassurance.

And it gave me strength.

I clutched the sheet to my chest to preserve my modesty as I watched a drowsy-eyed and satisfied Emmett, who resembled the cat that got the cream. I clamped my thighs and looked away from him, trying to calm myself down before I reconnected with his gaze.

His eyes were back to its honey colour and it caused a chill to run up my spine. Underneath the undeniable sedation of post-coital bliss laid something else. And I realized he had shot through my defences as if they were made of glass.

I needed him, but he needed me too. It was there, burning beneath my pride and nervousness and fear of rejection that he'd leave, just like every other person of importance in my life. But it was also a need that surpassed the physical. Overwhelmed by the intensity of the epiphany, I reached out and touched Emmett on the lips.

Emmett closed his eyes, visibly weakening under my touch. And when he opened them again they shone fiercely with lucidity, with conviction and purpose. He caught my hand a pressed a kiss on the centre of my palm.

"A thank you for the best sex of your life could have sufficed," I told him playfully.

But Emmett's expression faltered. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly, sitting up and pulling me close.

"I'm fine, Emmett. Really." I kissed his jaw and untangled myself from him, lying back down. My skin grew uncomfortably tight. How could I still want him after having gone at it three times already? After each round the pain had lessened into nothing at all.

I took in his rustled hair and I was scared to look at mine. We engaged in one last kiss before we heard the door slam open and a gasp followed by a familiar voice muttering, "What the hell?"

We both shot up from our bed and while Emmett was calmer with a smile plastered on his face, I reached down for my dress and hastily put it back on first before reaching for my undergarments. I glanced quickly at Emmett and saw him watching me so I reached over and hit his arm.

"They're here!" I whispered to them but knew they could probably hear me.

I stood up and started fixing my hair, but due to the lack of mirrors in this house I didn't know if I were fixing it or making the problem ten times worse.

"Your hair's fine, Rose," Emmett said as he put his clothes back on. I turned away from him and smoothed out the wrinkles and creases in my dress, touching my hair once again. I looked around the room for anything reflective, but my attempts were futile. Emmett sighed and then stepped in front of me, grabbing a hold of my hand and holding them in place. Placing both wrists in one hand the other smoothed my hair. "There, now you're even more perfect…er."

I smiled and kissed him softly before rushing out of the room with him trailing behind me. "Hi!" I said way too excitedly for my character, my voice reaching a whole octave higher. I cleared my throat, trying to control myself.

"What… happened here?" Carlisle asked, stepping forward tentatively.

I looked at Edward and I saw the slow transformation of his face: first curiosity and then absolute disgust. I couldn't help but smile, but was brought back my Carlisle's voice.

"Well?" he asked, and I think he was actually clueless. I knew Edward knew, and I think Esme had an idea, but Carlisle… he may have been a doctor but he sure didn't pick things up easily, not that I expected him too.

Emmett decided then to save me from the embarrassment. "I actually didn't notice all this… damage…" he trailed off, and while it was the truth, it wasn't the whole truth.

"Really?" Carlisle asked and I heard Edward chuckle. I was sure as hell he wasn't in my head and I wondered what Emmett was thinking.

"Carlisle," Esme started, "I think they were… they were…"

"They were what?" Carlisle asked impatiently.

Even Esme was flustered.

Emmett laughed and all eyes turned to him.

"We were doing the dirty!" Emmett exclaimed so bluntly that I turned away. Edward was shaking his head and Esme looked embarrassed, but the look on Carlisle's face made me want to crawl into a hole.

"Excuse me?" Carlisle and I inquired at the same time.

Emmett scratched his hair, suddenly nervous as well as he chuckled. "You were all beating around the bush so I just decided to let it all out. Um, Carlisle, we engaged in physical—a lot physical—contact because we wanted to express our love and… and care for one another because we… we really, really, _really_—"

"I think they get it, Emmett!"

"Uh, yeah."

"I see," Carlisle said quietly. "And you… destroyed things while in physical contact."

Emmett nodded sheepishly.

Carlisle spared a glance in each room and I was able to see how much destruction we had caused. Every single room had a whole in the wall and something was knocked over, with a few added touches here and there. When Carlisle was done looking he turned to Esme and said, "I can't live here."

Esme laughed, grabbing a hold of his arm.

Emmett tried to interject again. "Well, it's all out of our system so I'm pretty sure the next time will be quieter!"

"Emmett, please shut up," I moaned out, covering my face with my hands.

"I think there's a house in Hoquiam in the south of Forks we could live at. You kids are lucky I'm a doctor. We'll just settle here for now and I'll figure things out today…" he trailed off once he saw the hole in the dining room table.

I fled after that, shutting the door on Emmett's face to our room. I knew he was on the other side and told him furiously, "I hate you, Emmett!"

"You love me, Rosalie."

"Well, I take it back!"

"You can't take it back, it's already been said!"

I opened the door to him and began to push him away, and I knew he was letting me because it was way too easy.

"Let's go hunting. And please, do try to keep your hands off of me."

* * *

**a/n:** _finally_.


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE**

I didn't know where Emmett had gone and I was frantic. I liked knowing things and didn't like to be left in the dark. What was stranger was that he went with Esme and while I'd like to assume they went hunting together, it was a hard thing to swallow. I knew something was up but Carlisle was at work (or looking for that new house) and Edward was off in his own world. I wanted to go after them, but I knew I had to stop being so needy so I just stayed behind.

I also knew Edward knew was up because of the whole mind reading thing and all, but I also knew he would not relent and tell me what Emmett was thinking. Or Esme.

We had stayed in the house longer than intended because it was hard for Carlisle to secure another house in a small town so quickly. We didn't really bother fixing the holes in the walls or the broken tables, but we did realign the chairs at least.

We had been here for a month and Christmas was fast approaching so I assumed Emmett and Esme were maybe getting presents. I wanted a car. I really, really, really wanted—no, needed—a car. I was easy. They might have been good with those things but I was terrible at gift-giving. I sighed, pushing it to the back of my mind and trying to think of something else after screaming the word car in my head in hopes that Edward could hear me.

I contemplated hunting but I wasn't even hungry. And then I contemplated going outside, but soon decided against it because I didn't want to go alone. So I stayed at the house, wishing my car was here. Edward told me he'd get me another, but I didn't know when.

There wasn't even a piano here. There wasn't anything besides the holes in the walls. Frustrated, I decided I was going to go out, but before I could make it through the door, Emmett burst through.

"Hey Rose!" Emmett said jovially, wrapping his arms around me. He lifted me off the ground and _I_ smiled, giggling. I turned my head and pecked him lightly on the lips.

Esme cut in between us. "This is as far as you both will go. I don't want to see my house crumble to the floor. Nor do I want to see our new house crumble to the floor when we do get one."

I untangled myself from Emmett and walked out the door and I felt Emmett just stare at me before running after me.

"Where are you going?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I can't be inside there all day. Might as well see what's out here if we're going to be living here for a while. I thought nothing was smaller than Virginia—boy was I wrong."

"Hey, come with me. I need to show you something," Emmett told me and before I could protest he was holding onto my hand and leading the way. I followed him aimlessly, not caring where I was going anymore. Truth be told, I never did have a plan as to where I was going anyways.

He took me to the heart of the forest amidst the darkness, the stars peaking through the leaves and casting faint light on our skin.

"If you wanted to go for another round you could've just asked," I joked, nearly stumbling on the fallen wood.

Instead of commenting with a snide remark he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me and just holding me there. I breathed in his scent—something so Emmett that brought familiarity and relief.

"You know I love you, right Rose?"

"Of course I do," I answered, fretful as to where this conversation was going.

He felt my hands tense up against his chest because he looked down at them before holding them in his.

"Emmett?" I asked worriedly. "What is this about?"

Emmett only smiled softly and I didn't know if I was supposed to be relieved or not. I just eyed him closely, watching his every move.

And then, he turned away from me. He pulled his hands from mine and turned so his back was completely to me. He put his hands in his pockets and I was rendered speechless like I had just been punched in the gut.

But before I could say anything he turned around so quickly, faster than I had ever seen. His hands were behind his back and he looked so calm even though he was about to break my heart.

He strode ever so slowly towards me and touched his forehead against mine. He gave a kiss—one I closed my eyes too—before I felt him pull away.

When I opened my eyes I was breathless.

Emmett was on one knee with a ring in his hand and I could only stare at the Victorian styled, yet simple ring. There was a lace filigree pattern on the thin ring—the metal detailing so precise and delicate. There weren't any gems to accent it and I didn't mind.

It was beautiful in its simplicity.

And I knew Emmett may have gotten Esme to help him pick one out, but had most likely humbly paid for it himself.

"Rosalie Hale, will you marry me?" he whispered so nervously that I could feel his shaking breath on my skin.

I could only stare at him, no words escaping my mouth. I started to think of my last engagement and while I knew it would never be that way with Emmett, I was still anxious.

When I looked at Emmett I saw him still waiting so calmly, but knew he was a wreck inside. And I knew I couldn't keep him waiting.

I closed my eyes and wondered if I would regret my decision. "I love you Emmett, so much, but I… I'm sorry… I… I…"

I gulped and before I could finish Emmett stood up and wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry, but I can't… But I do love you so much, you know that right?"

He sighed. "Of course. It's okay. I know with the anniversary and all and I wasn't thinking—"

"Please don't blame yourself. I just… I just need to collect myself and… God, I'm so lucky to have you."

A smile broke Emmett's face but it didn't quite reach his ears.

I wanted to take it back and say yes, dear God yes, but I couldn't. I couldn't pretend and I couldn't lie to myself.

We stayed that way until we heard something close by. We both lifted our heads up instinctively, looking around the forest. I noticed Emmett had tucked the ring away, but before I could think further into it I saw Edward appear.

Immediately I turned away, hiding my distraught face even though I knew he would know what I was thinking anyways.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" Emmett asked, not letting go of me.

Soon after Carlisle and Esme appeared, and I knew Esme had a sad look on her face when I felt Emmett shake his head.

"We're on Native territory," Carlisle said slowly. "Well, you both were before we found you. We can't be here. We need to leave."

"Why?" Emmett asked.

But before Carlisle could answer we heard low growling noises around us. It wasn't long until we were surrounded by wolves and we all knew at that moment that they were more than creatures from the wild.

Time seemed to stand still until slowly, someone behind the throng of wolves approached us. Their long black hair blew calmly against the wind, contrasting the maelstrom of emotions running through my body. Our eyes never left one another and I knew Edward was concentrating—trying to delve into his mind.

"Bloodsuckers," the man said lowly.

"We were just leaving." Edward replied.

The man just continued to stare while the wolves slowly circled us, baring their teeth.

"You're in our territory," the man said. A smirk slowly appeared on his face and our eyes were transfixed as the man's eyes suddenly flared in rage, his brown eyes almost changing colours in his sudden anger.

Carlisle tried to step in and make peace, but before he could the man's body began to glow from the moonlight and we knew what was happening. We watched as his change began. His skin began to sprout dark hair which slowly began to collect into thick fur. His hands began to restructure themselves into paws, and sharp claws extended where his fingernails once were.

The structure of his back started to shift as a tail extended from his lower back, covered in black fur that now surrounded the rest of his body.

His eyelids snapped open and he flashed bright yellow eyes.

"I don't believe it," Carlisle said in a very low voice.

And before any of us could move he reared on his hind legs and pounced, a ferocious growl ripping from his throat. He bared his teeth at Carlisle, saliva dripping as he growled and jump.

It happened so fast. Once Carlisle was on the floor we rushed him, but were detoured by the other wolves coming our way. Quickly, Carlisle managed to shove the wolf off of him.

"Run!" he directed at us. We were outnumbered and we wouldn't survive the blood bath—it was five against ten.

Emmett immediately grabbed my hand and started to pull me away that I couldn't even look behind me anymore. We heard them behind us, their snarls getting closer. They were panting heavily of anger and lust as we ran blindly through the forest, but Emmett never did let go.

Trying not to look back, we were unprepared for the wolf cutting through us, catching Emmett and I onto the ground. Panting heavily, Emmett threw the wolf off of us but I knew it would only be temporary.

Immediately the wolf began to stir again and Emmett shot me a look. "Rosalie, I want you to run!"

The wolf then started to wake and went after Emmett again and I couldn't believe what he was telling me. "I'm not going to leave you here!" I said as I advanced towards the animal.

Emmett held its head to the ground, looking at me desperately. "Don't fight with me, please. Go find Edward and Carlisle and Esme—I can handle them. I'll be careful, I promise. I have too much to live for. Now go!" I wanted to believe him so badly.

I was hesitant to turn away so easily without a fight but there was something in his eyes I couldn't deny: passion. So I shot through the forest, running for my life. It wouldn't be long before a wolf came after me once again. And I admitted I was mad, mad at him for leaving me, making me fend for myself again. But I was also mad at myself for the reliability I had on others.

The honesty that was spilled out started to elude my anger, and I felt more and more whole, because he had a right to be scared for me, just like I had a right to be scared—for him. So I continued to run, looking for one of my family members along the way. The only thing I could hear was my own thoughts ramming into each other. Up and down, left and right. Everything else, the rest of the world, was on mute. All that was on my mind was getting away and getting to the rest of my family.

I wanted to be there with Emmett. I needed to be there. Leaving him for himself was one of the stupidest things I could have done but he wanted it. If everything turned out bad, it would be because of me and I couldn't live with that.

I missed it at first, the black figure looming around me, but noticed it when I felt its eyes on me. My feet stopped and I glanced around fretfully, my hands shaking.

The sound of leaves rustling got me running again through the deep underbrush of the forest. Whatever was watching her had its eyes on me as I tried to escape its sight.

_WHAM!_

It shot out of nowhere, a blow to my left ribcage and I felt myself flying before slamming into a tree, its bark digging into my head as it tore through the unprotected skin of my scalp.

My fingers clawed against the ground when I slid down, my attacker obscured by darkness. But the scent was there. And I was ready as it came headfirst at me, leaping onto me. The struggled only lasted a few seconds before I kicked the wolf in the gut and tried to scratch its head away from me. The wolf fell to the ground with a loud thump, and before it could react I was up and running again. I was in a rush to think where I was going, but everywhere around me there were nothing but trees and wilderness.

With a quick look behind me, I noticed nothing was following me anymore. Slowing down but never completely stopping my senses were heightened as I tried to listen for anything whether friend or foe.

I stopped suddenly.

It was still there.

There was no way they would flee without killing its prey—it was a wolf's nature. The look on the wolf's face as it smelled me might not been a ravenous one, but it did have a face intended to kill. And I knew it—or they—were prowling somewhere, waiting. I was supposed to run, but a noise stopped me on my tracks.

_Thump, thump, thump_.

The noise was too obvious and I almost jumped out of my skin as I started once again to run heedlessly through the night. I grew apprehensive as my still heart began to reemerge into life and slowly break through my chest.

And as I ran the sound only grew louder. I recognized the sound. It was running and now they were coming faster. Something deep inside me snapped. I needed to run. I had to run. They would be ruthless when hunting for me and I needed to get out.

I had no time to think. I ran, and I ran hard. I wanted to just get away. I didn't care that I was screaming for Edward in my mind anymore. My chest was heaving heavily just as I heard thunder.

That was an understatement.

My entire surroundings seemed to quake under their weight. I was trembling violently as I continued to run blindly through the forest, but feeling no leaves crunching underneath me. I felt my heart itch its way up my throat.

_Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump._

It was gaining on me. I was in full panic. I ran slightly faster before I felt ground give way. Cold and wet alerted my senses. I had fallen into a large body of water.

Out of instinct, I moved around madly trying to hoist myself up. The surface got father the longer I spent and I wondered where the wolf was. I had never learned how to swim.

Then I gasped as I went under, my arms and legs kicking frivolously to keep myself hoisted up. I didn't need to breathe, but I also didn't know how to get myself _out_. Blinded by the emotions crashing through me, the panic, the humanity, and the darkness… I felt so helpless.

Recklessly, I tried to reach the surface after being pulled down by the current. The sudden sprint only panicked me more, the burning pain unbearable, the sting in my eyes making me relentless, and the heavy panting made it feel like my entire chest was about to explode.

It felt like the dull ache was going to go on forever and I felt a throbbing on the side of my head before wind rushed through me. I felt myself being pulled upward quickly and I coughed as my head broke the surface of the water. In a matter of seconds I was pulled out of the water.

The world was blurry but I was too tired to wipe the water away. I heard a muffled voice, slowly clearing. My eyes were scarcely open, my breathing loud as I inhaled air even though I didn't need it, my voice frantic and incoherent.

"Breathe, Rose," I heard Emmett beside me say, his voice reassuring that I was safe, no matter how dependable it sounded.

His hands were dry even though they were cold, so I held them tightly with mine while he rubbed my back. I clung to him as if I was still moving from the currents under head and he stroked me gently as I tried to breathe evenly.

"I'm running after wolves but it's the water that gets me," I said sarcastically.

"Are you okay?" Emmett asked me, brushing my wet hair away from my face. "I told you I'd be back. You saved me once, now let me save you." He smiled softly. "I saw Edward—him and Carlisle managed to get most of them away. We're also off their territory now so they shouldn't be after us."

"Did you kill them?"

"No. Injured them extensively yes, but killed them? No."

Emmett carefully lifted me up into his arms, cradling me like I was an infant child. But I didn't object as my hair cascaded all along my face, water running down my cheeks.

_Thump_.

I froze instantly, stilling in Emmett's arm. "Wait," I said, frantic. "There was one more—behind me. I fell in trying to get away from—"

"I know. I think they left though. I didn't think that you would actually almost kill yourself trying to run," he tried to joke.

"I didn't think there would be any water here."

"There isn't. You ran out of the forest and into a river."

But that was all he could say before once again the wolf was on him, shooting from the darkness and diving for Emmett's legs. I heard the creature let loose a low gurgling growl as it advanced, seemingly dragging the darkness along with it.

It pulled Emmett away from me and I screamed as I watched in shock as Emmett was pounced on by the wolf. His hand in mine had been taken away and he too was caught in surprise as he tore away from my hold. I wouldn't run away this time.

The wolf's natural instincts began to take over as he leaned his head in to precede the attack. My eyes grew wide with fear and I could feel as if there were a rapid, pulsating beat to my still heart.

But before I could help him I was pushed down by another wolf that came from behind—one with lighter fur—and I felt it crush me with its heavy body. It hurt like hell. And as hurt as I was I was still trying to make my way to Emmett. Emmett had the disadvantage as the larger, more burly wolf attacked him ruthlessly, the frailer wolf against my skin.

My eyes deepened in depth and looked past the wolf as if I were looking through him. Easily shoving the wolf on me I attempted to crawl on my hands and knees, but it only caused the wolf to push harder. Growling, it bit my ankles, pulling me back. I was in too much pain and in too much shock to let out a full scream.

The wolf, probably annoyed with my persistence, bared its teeth into my arm, pushing me to the ground and slamming it against the dirt, a sickening crack coming from the connection.

I heard Emmett scream beside me and when I turned I saw the wolf sinking its teeth into Emmett's cold, hard flesh. I stared right into him and even though his eyes were open, I saw nothing in them. But his cry of agony sent an adrenaline rush through me.

With a newfound determination I hastily pushed the lighter furred wolf off of me with a growl, baring my teeth and clawing at its skin, letting its blood roll off its head. Keeping my eyes trained on Emmett as I pushed the now unconscious wolf away, the sight of his scream was more painful than the noise emitted itself.

Everything happened quickly as the wolf ravished Emmett, attempting to tear his limbs from his body. I snarled and the wolf paused, turning towards me as his growls halted, his menacing eyes turning away from me and looking through the thick forest of trees—as if someone was there.

Taking in his distraction I immediately attacked him, a loud thud preceding as I pushed it away from Emmett and onto the ground. Focusing on the kill, I tried to ignore the burning pain in my chest at the sight of Emmett pressed faced down on the ground, scratches running down his skin from all sides.

Still, I persisted, even though I felt severe pain everywhere as well. Trying to move too much was a fatal mistake, but I was blinded by rage to even care, focused on the physical fray I was putting myself in.

I leaped on the animal and tackled it to the ground, wrestling it as we rolled against the floor. Its paws tried to tear my skin and I clawed into its fur. I pulled myself as far away as I could from its teeth while still trying to kill it. With a burst of energy I threw the wolf right into a tree. All that energy only caused me to pant heavily as I lethargically lifted myself from the ground.

I stalked towards the wolf and when it tried to lift its head I kept it on the ground and watched its legs flailed. I watched as its fur finally began to cave in and its face began to revert to its human form. Underneath I could see his bare tan skin adorning several wounds, long and deep, dry and fresh blood rolling down his skin.

His yellow eyes were barely open, but I saw them change. Individual fingers and toes began to show themselves and his claws shortened into fingernails.

Then his human chest began to grow out into its shape as he attempted to roll over, closing his yellow eyes and accepting its final changed before opening ever so slightly, a dulling colour of brown.

The young man lay flat on the ground with all his human features restored, his body naked. His skin was ashen and crimson. He could barely breathe and I felt the slow thump of his pulse.

And to see him so calm, so at peace despite his wounds—it made my skin crawl. I was a raging volcano bubbling against the surface of my skin. My mind went foggy. My vision blurred and it was like being alone in a dark room. I was dizzy and desperate and I could hear myself snarling.

My stamina increased as I pounced on him, nearly unconscious; loving the surprised grunt he produced. His hand flew to my arms around his throat as I squeezed, sobbing all the while. I lifted him and slammed his body into a tree, his weak body crunching against the bark. I felt his blood run cold out of his veins and could feel the liquid rolling off his scalp while blood from the other side of his head started to matte his long hair together.

Blood fell from his cheeks to his neck. I smirked; conquer painted all over my face, only to be replaced with a frown. I let him drop, the bleeding never subsiding. The rancid scent almost sent me into an uncontrollable lucidity. The man doubled over, clutching stomach.

It wasn't long before I was on him again, my foot pushing against his leg. His consciousness was slowly slipping as I pushed and pushed and pushed. He screamed in pain and before I could deliver the final blow I was being pushed out of the way and being picked up.

But I wasn't done. My eyes were angry, bloodlust, and filled with tenacity. I wouldn't give into the darkness until he was dead for hurting Emmett. But the pulling persisted and soon I was only aware of strong arms around me, pulling me off of the wolf turned human. And naturally I began to thrash, my eyes wild as I continued when I felt their hold slowly loosen.

"Rose, stop." I heard Edward's calm voice nearly whisper in my ear and I watched as Esme immediately crouched by Emmett and Carlisle tended both male shape shifters. I saw him reach over to one before going to the one that attacked Emmett, searching for a pulse. "They're both still alive," he murmured. "We can't stay too long. They know we're here." Swiftly, he went back to Emmett, searching for any signs of life within the vampire.

The sight of Emmett so lifeless made my entire body quiver before aching.

"Let me go Edward! I'm going to kill him!" I screamed hopelessly, my eyes locked on the unconscious wolf.

"Emmett needs you right now, think about Emmett," Edward said harshly to me.

Fear rushed through me at that moment. I felt the agony of fear collide inside of me and there would be no one to save me from it if Emmett was gone. No matter what I thought of him, I wanted to protect him like he did to me. I immediately pulled myself away from Edward and rushed over to him. I dropped to my knees and held his face in my hands. His skin was colder than normal and I could feel the wolf's blood on his cheeks, making it look like he had been crying red. The wolf's blood began to taint my hands but I wouldn't pull away from my love. The metallic smell wafted the air like poisonous gas as I inhaled every scent of it.

Emmett's eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. It was just like the time I first saved him, except this time I didn't know if Carlisle knew what to do.

This only angered me so much more. I released my hold of his body and stared at the almost lifeless carcass. Instantly, my world began to shatter around me as well, my eyes lost and dazed. I turned to Carlisle.

"Carlisle, save him," I said through nausea and vertigo before I felt myself being pulled deeper into the dark alongside Emmett.


	41. Chapter Forty

**CHAPTER FORTY**

In the darkness I waited, and in the mourning, I dreamed. And I saw his eyes in my mind, tinged with fear—it was the first time I had seen him with such an intense stare. I knew though that his eyes didn't only represent fear for his own safety, but mine as well. Maybe even more.

And I didn't know whether to feel content or apprehensive at such a thought.

It was strange, how one moment I felt so reassured by his presence, and yet, at another moment, I was scared for him and didn't want him around me at all.

I knew I was still unconscious, trapped in my own head. I didn't know how I knew, I just did. Maybe it was vampire instinct. That sounded stupid. Yet even with this realization I found it inexplicably hard to reel myself in from unconsciousness. It was as if I were drowning again, fighting to free myself. Slowly, my eyelids fluttered to half-mast. I winced as blinding light speared my retinas as I raised a hand in an attempt to deflect the brightness, but the air only surged out of me before my arm landed back down in a thud.

Disoriented, I squinted to try and clear the blurred image hovering about me as I heard a word being called over and over again. Muted, my name didn't penetrate until several seconds later. I blinked as I tried to reestablish a connection with the present. Carlisle's face slid into focus. Fraught with worry, I could feel him lightly shaking my shoulders.

"What?" I gurgled out sluggishly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."But as soon as those words left my mouth I sat up, his name coming out like a breath. "Emmett?" my voice warbled. My head hurt, but I didn't lay back down. It would just make it worse.

I frantically searched until my gaze finally landed on him. I blinked and there were no lacerations or evidence that he was unconscious. He could've been mistaken for just sleeping. Too bad vampires didn't sleep and at that moment I wished we could.

I felt someone hold me steady and I couldn't move away even though I wanted to. Paralysis still held a part of me as I fought for it. The full impact of what had happened hadn't quite sunk in yet, but it was only a matter of time. I felt someone hold me close and for a selfish second I wish it were someone else.

I tried to throw my legs off the side, but Edward held me back.

"Let me go Edward," I mumbled, my eyes never leaving Emmett. If it did I feared he would just disappear into the air as if he were nothing but dust.

"Rose, you need to rest."

I knew I needed to. I knew that even if I wanted to fight Edward that I couldn't. He would hold me down and not let go, thinking it was for my own good. And even if it were for my own good it was something that he didn't understand. He didn't have what I had and I think that if he did, it would be much worse for him.

"Please Edward," I whispered, barely recognizing myself. Was the blow to my head much stronger than I had thought?

I felt him stiffen beside me before his hold reluctantly loosened. "I love him," I said fleetingly.

"We all do."

"No, I _love_ him." The words came out gurgled and strained. I loved him, but he probably didn't believe it after I blatantly rejected his proposal. "He's getting his wish. I knew he wanted this, but it's too soon!" I yelled suddenly, feeling hysterical.

"What?" Edward asked, clearly confused.

I sighed, just watching Emmett. "He told me… he told me that he wanted to die first. That, he couldn't… that he couldn't bear it if I died first." I went beside Emmett and just stared at his face, his soft, almost child-like face. "Please, Emmett. I need you. I can't do this without you." My voice broke and I didn't care who was in the room to witness it. Not anymore.

Fear was a part of life and I had accepted that, specifically the fear of change, but this was one thing I didn't want to change in my life. Things will always scare us but I couldn't let it control me, but my God it was hard.

Emmett's face was peaceful, just like it always was, and just like how Carlisle had said it had been the day before. I tentatively touched his hair and it was still so soft and so curly. I was supposed to feel ridiculous talking to Emmett, knowing he wouldn't reply. But at that moment it seemed almost normal, as if he could hear me.

Somewhere between walking to Emmett and speaking everyone had left the room, but I didn't know when.

"It's funny, I'm crying right now and not being myself, and you're not here to see it. I'm breaking down without you, Emmett. I really am. And I'm trying to be strong like I've always been but I can't. I wish you could hold me again, or make me laugh, or make me so angry at you. I'd forgive you soon after though, I can't stay mad at you. But I'm mad right now because you're not answering me. You're the strongest person I've ever met. I know you'll come back to us. To me."

All Carlisle told her was that they had to wait. There wasn't anything that he could do—Emmett wasn't human and Carlisle had never witnessed something like this before. He couldn't tell if anything was working because Emmett was technically dead. It was all up to him to wake himself up, he had told her.

That was three days ago.

It had been three days since the attack and I never left his side. I was depriving myself. I was so hungry, but I couldn't turn myself away from him. Edward brought back deer, but I didn't want any.

By the fifth day Edward had to practically shove the animal to my face to get me to drink. I didn't.

By the seventh day Edward waited with me until I did. So I did.

When he left I glanced outside. I smiled at the sight of the sun and was reminded of his eyes. When I was with him I felt as though my chest was about to burst with love, my unbeating heart imploding with pressure. This could not be the last time I would ever see Emmett. He made me feel human all over again—full of complicated human emotions. I swore there were tears in my eyes but that wasn't possible.

"Please wake up," I pleaded, my voice trembling. He needed to tell me everything would be okay and that we would get through it. He was good at that stuff. I wanted to hear his voice. It didn't matter what he was saying, as long as he was speaking. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I couldn't remember that—his voice. It would be the last thing I thought about before I died, if I ever did. I hoped I didn't.

I wondered what he thought about before he became… _this_. I couldn't hold my composure anymore and started to shake, crumpling near his still body. He was supposed to hold me but he didn't move. All the thoughts of him holding me vanished. Inhaling deeply, I smelled his scent that I loved. It was a light sandalwood smell that was still masculine, reminding me of the times we went hunting, sharing blood stained kisses in the forest.

My fingers curled against his and somewhere deep inside of me knew that if he only got worse, that he'd never be able to hold me again and teasing me about being worried over nothing. I smiled wistfully, wanting our tangible love to come together again. But then I felt it. Pain constricting my chest, our dreams for the future broken.

I felt it. I felt my still heart break into two, but it couldn't be true—he couldn't be gone. I thought I was unbreakable after Royce, but something inside of me crumbled and I wasn't the same as I used to be. Sadness washed over me like a waterfall. I couldn't be angry. I wasn't angry. Not anymore. Just sad. Really, really sad.

* * *

Edward somehow convinced me to go hunting with him. I feared how easily I was relenting to him now. And if he were reading my thoughts he didn't show it and I should have been feeling grateful but the thought that he wasn't _bothering _me didn't settle well in my stomach. It just made me feel more alone.

"He'll wake up, you know," he said to me as we were walking towards the forest. We should have been running but frankly I didn't have the energy and we had all the time.

I didn't answer.

"Don't tell me you've given up on him."

"I didn't say that," I replied almost too snarky for my taste.

"I've been in his head, you know. He's not completely gone."

I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes suddenly set afire. "Well? Why'd you decide to tell me this now? Do you not care about him at all?"

He decided to ignore my last retort.

"It's all just a bunch of words that hardly makes sense. It's like he's dreaming and I'm listening in. He thinks about you a lot. That's why I hardly ever listen in on him," he tried to joke. Edward laughed roughly which was still far from accepting, but the forced lightness was a start. I didn't laugh, just trying to take everything in.

"I hope he does wake up then," I said tiredly.

"He's freaking out, most likely about you."

I lifted my head. "He is?"

"I'm sure he's trying to come out of his coma. I think he needs that extra push. If he saw you practically crying over him like you have he'd laugh."

I wanted to talk back but it fit what he was saying. I opened my mouth to say as much when something stirred in my periphery. With a sharp intake of breath I tried to tell Edward to watch out, but the animal pounced onto him, striking his head.

The light went out of his eyes as he tumbled sideways in shock, with nothing to break his fall but air.

"Edward!" I yelled, reaching for him, but my attempt to grab onto him went out in vain as I felt myself being clawed at from behind, their vicious growls stealing my scream.

I should have known Edward wouldn't have given up without a fight, however. Attempting to push the animal from my back I watched as Edward set his jaw in a firm clench and pushed the wolf back. I bucked and barely threw the wolf behind me. Quickly turning my head I recognized the wolf that had attacked Emmett. There was no physical evidence, but I just knew.

And that was all it took. Not even their deep, terribly frightening growl could make me stop. The beast's eyes were pure black as saliva dripped off their sharp canines, adding to the menacing aura that reverberated off of them. His throat purred an animalistic snarl, but Edward's voice seemed to overpower them.

"We're not on Quileute territory!" Edward shouted, pulling me from the animal near me. He shielded me behind him and I watched wordlessly.

From behind me I heard a twig snap and all our heads snapped towards the source. From the underbrush I saw a head of blonde hair come into view. Carlisle had wanted to be heard once I saw him clearly.

"Where's your leader?" Carlisle asked, interjecting. He stepped past us as if he held no fear, watching the wolves carefully.

Then, from beyond the trees, we heard his voice: "Levi, Quil. Stop."

And with those three words the wolves heeded back towards the human figure that came from the darkness. I eyes him suspiciously, his somewhat youthful appearance conflicting with the power he held over the wolves. It was silent for a moment, but the wolves seemed to know what their leader wanted of them and began to back away behind him.

"You are not on Quileute territory yet, but you are dangerously close to La Push. My pack was looking after our territory just in case the cold ones tried to trespass."

_We're right here!_ I thought mercifully.

"We are not like other vampires. We have trained ourselves to resist the temptation of human blood. We do not wish to cause disruption between your tribe and my coven. After what happened between one of ours we would like this to end." His voice was calm but his eyes were dark, underlying anger hidden between his iron irises.

The tension coming between us was no match for my rage however. I clenched my fists as we waited for him to respond. I wanted to kill them and I silently stepped forward, but Edward's arm stayed in front of me, blocking me from them. He turned his head and looked at me somewhat sympathetically, silently trying to reason. He just didn't understand that reason had escaped my mind a long time ago.

"I am Carlisle Cullen, and this is my coven, my family."

The tribe leader nodded cautiously. "Ephraim Black. This is my pack: Levi and Quil."

I realized then that it was Levi who had hurt Emmett. I tightened my lips, restraining myself from jumping over Edward and killing him.

"Ephraim, you have taken out one of ours, but we have chosen not to fight back, but to call for peace. We do not believe in having a bloodbath. All I want is to live peacefully with my family, away from humans, without the notion to intervene with the place you have built upon yourselves. We have nothing but respect for you and your pack." His voice was so clear but I knew he was lying straight through his teeth.

Ephraim stepped forward, unguarded by his pack. He didn't say a word, just looked Carlisle right in the eyes. "You will leave us alone, and we shall do the same. You must also not reveal our identity to outsiders, and you must never taste human blood—whether to kill or change them. We are serious about our wishes and should you not abide by our rules we will not hesitate to attack like we did to your little friend."

He said the last part with such pride and no remorse that I snapped. "You nearly killed him! I should kill you! An eye for an eye!" I screamed, unable to hold myself back. But before I could make it a couple of steps I felt Edward's arms around me. I thrashed in his arms, my blonde hair shielding my eyes from his emotionless face.

"You are his wife?" he asked me, looking right at me.

I ignored the stab I felt inside of me. "I should kill you." I could hardly meet Carlisle's eyes. I pulled away from Edward and with one last fleeting glare I left to go back to Emmett because I knew if I had stayed any longer I wouldn't be able to hold back. The last thing I wanted to do was act with my head and disappoint what Carlisle was trying to do for us.

So I ran to him, to Emmett. I practically flew through the door and went straight to Emmett, ignoring Esme who was sitting near him. Her eyes met mine but she didn't say a word, just stood up and looked at me questioningly. I didn't blame her—I was a frazzled mess. I was breathing heavily and my hair was tangled, and I knew that if I could cry that there would be a river of tears falling from my eyes.

I let Carlisle and Edward handle the peace offering they were trying to negotiate with the Quileute. If it were up to me I'd choose to fight them, which was probably why it was good that I wasn't there.

Instead I looked right at Emmett's closed eyelids and prayed that Ephraim was right and that he would wake up.

"Has anything changed? Anything at all?" I asked Esme without looking at her.

She stayed silent and I took it as a no. I closed my eyes and curled my head against the crook of his neck, placing a soft kiss where his still pulse lay underneath his skin.

And that's where I stayed until Carlisle and Edward returned. Their footsteps were heavy compared to the airy almost soundless walk they would make and I feared the worst.

I tensed against Emmett and raised my head slightly, waiting for them to pass by so I could see their faces. When I saw Carlisle his lips looked grim and tense, but it contrasted against his eyes.

Carlisle's eyes went to mine and I stayed silent, waiting. "They won't be bothering us anymore. We stay separate from them and they stay separate from us. We must not talk about them to no one and we'll live as if we've never crossed paths."

"What about Emmett?" I interjected.

The room was silent for a moment and Carlisle's eyes drifted away from mine. My fist tightened, causing me to squeeze Emmett's hand so much that I felt my fingers pressing into his bones.

I looked away as well, my eyes going to Edward, who looked just as grim.

"What about me?"

At first, I thought I was hearing things. It took a second for me to process what I had just heard but when I did my head snapped in Emmett's directions, eyes wide.

"Emmett!" I nearly screamed.

Emmett looked up at me, blinking and disoriented.

"Oh Jesus," he murmured as he attempted to sit up.

Carlisle was beside us at once.

"How are you feeling, Emmett?" I asked before Carlisle could.

"Like I've just been attacked by a werewolf." I rolled my eyes. "Speaking of, are you okay, sweetheart? Is there a wolf I need to kill?" he asked, and looked right at me. The way he said it was as if he were just taking a nap. He didn't seem bothered—not at all. His gaze was piercing and I froze at his term of endearment, letting his hand reach to touch my cheek. His strength wasn't enough however and fell back down after only making it halfway.

I laughed at that and chose to hold his face in my hands. I looked down at him worriedly, dragging my fingertips against the sides of his face hoping this was real.

"I'm fine," I said breathlessly

"And we won't be seeing the wolves," Carlisle said.

Emmett looked surprised. "Why? Did Rose here kill them all?"

"She tried to," Edward replied. "Instead we created a treaty. We don't touch them and they don't touch us, essentially."

"That's it?" Emmett asked. "We outnumbered them; we could have taken them down!" He tried to yell but his voice didn't allow it as he strained for words.

Carlisle looked pointedly at him. "That may have been true, but we are not violent creatures. This agreement works well for both of us. Besides, we have more pressing matters to attend to, like your health. Can you stand, Emmett?"

I let go of his hand and he stood with the kind of ease that couldn't be faked. Granted, he did have a slight limp, but other than that no one would have known he was almost ravished a couple of days ago.

"Amazing," I said astonishingly.

Emmett just turned back and smiled at me. "Do we have anything to eat?" he asked, still staring at me.

I smiled back at his carelessness. He was so carefree, something I just wasn't used to.

And as I stared at him I thought about the restless days and nights when he wasn't here with me, I thought of all the words I said and wanted to say when he couldn't hear me. And if we ever were to part again whether temporary or permanent—which I hoped and prayed it would never come to—I didn't want him to feel like I didn't love him completely.

"I'll come," I said, standing abruptly. I took Emmett's arm and just gave him a tight smile, wanting for us to be alone with each other. "Can you walk?"

He tested out a couple steps before replying. "Yeah," he said. He glanced back at the rest of our family and though I saw reluctance in Carlisle's eyes I sent a silent message to Edward who nodded and lightly touched Carlisle's arm. When we turned back and was outside he asked, "How long have I been out?"

"A couple of days. I don't know the exact number. It all starts to blend together after a while."

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"For what? I'm fine. You… saved me."

"You're not mad?"

"Me? You should be mad; you risked your life for mine. No one's ever done that before."

"Maybe it finally happened because you let them." He smiled down at me and gently placed his lips on top of mine. There were no sparks or fires or drumming of my heartbeat. There was just us—Emmett and I… _us_. And I knew there was no one else I'd rather be with.

When he pulled apart the words were on the tip of my tongue, but before I could spit it out Emmett moved like lightening speed away from me.

"Race ya!" He laughed, looking back at me as he started to run.

I bit my lip, knowing if I didn't do it know I wouldn't know when I would finally have the guts to say it.

"Marry me, Emmett!" I tried to yell, but it only came out strangled.

I was still rooted on the ground and I saw Emmett falter for a moment before picking himself up, grinning. "Nice try, sweetheart, but you got to do more than that to stop me!"

He turned and began to run faster and a part of me was angry at him for denying my confession, my request. With utmost determination I raced past him and saw as he looked behind him. I took that opportunity put my foot out, knocking him to the ground.

His dazed expression stared quizzically up at me and before he could say anything I whispered, "I'm serious."

I didn't have time to process his facial expression because I had already been swept off my feet before I had the chance.

I laughed as I saw Emmett's grinning expression

"You're serious?"

"No, Emmett, I'm lying straight through my teeth," I said with a deadpanned expression.

Emmett only kissed me then before fumbling in his pockets and I realized what he was pulling out before I saw it.

"You kept it in your pocket?"

He only smiled at me. "Unless it's with you, there's no other safer place."

He took my hand and held up the ring, but before words came out of his mouth I said, "Emmett McCarty, will you take the honour of being my husband, and giving me that beautiful ring?"

Emmett bit his tongue and smirked. "Yes, Rosalie Hale, I do," Emmett replied, sliding the ring in place before I pulled him onto me, my kiss sealing us together forever—how ever long that forever may be.

* * *

**a/n**: so i suck a lot of monkey balls...


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